MbB..,^^iJ.jJ: 




IIBRARV OF CONGRESS. 



UNITED STATES* OF AMERICA. 



TO SELL 

* BILLY DASH POEMS." 



This volume is just published, and contains 
nearly two hundred pages of Poems, on a 
great variet}- of subjects— humorous, senti- 
mental, temperance, and sacred. Large com- 
mission — sells at sight. 

Price, bound in cloth, - - - - $1.00 
" " in paper, ----- .50 

AVill be sent by mail, where there is no 
Agent, on receipt of j)rice. For tem^s, etc., 
Address, Wakd Sprague, 

Sandy Creek, N. Y. 



BILLY DASH 



PO) 



J3 



BY 



WARD SPRAGUE 



PUBLISHED FOR TFG AU 
FRANK E. MUNG 

SANDY CREEK, N. Y 

1878. 




Entered according to Act of Cougress, iu the year 1878, by 

WARD SPRAGUE, 
Iu the Otficc of the Libkauian ofCoxoress, at Washington. 



TO 

MY TWO 

BOYS, 

Charlie & Walter 

THIS BOOK 

IS 

Affectionately 

DEDICATED. 






P K E F A C E. 

For a period of seven long weary years I have 
been an invalid. The poems contained in this 
volume were written as a pas.time. Some of them 
while traveling in my carriage in the country for 
my health; the most of them while confined to my 
room, unable to take out-door exercise. 

With but little if any prospect of ever regaining 
my health, so as to be able to engage in the active 
business pursuits of life, it- occurred to me to ven- 
ture a part of the little left of what I had accumu- 
lated by industry and economy while in health, in 
the publication of this book, and, through agents, 
to place it before the public. 

Hoping this little volume may find a place in 
your home and afford pleasure and profit to all 
who may read its pages, and craving yout charita- 
ble consideration for its many imperfections, I 
subscribe myself. 

Your Obedient Servant, 

" BILLY DASH." 



CONTENTS. 

PAKT FIRST. 

Page. 

A Little Boy's Pocket 39 

A isTPANGE Wat, 41 

A Politician's Soliloquy, 45 

Advice to Boys, (52 

A Yankiee Thick, 115 

Heneath The Old Elms 120 

BtTSY Ann, How is Youb Mothee, 137 

Centennial, (comic) 12 

( 'ouktship, 72 

Centennial 92 

Ca«tles In The Air, 98 

Drink Nothing But Water, 28 

Di n't Worry and Fret, 77 

Dare to Say No, 114 

1 AiNTY Number Three, 124 

Duns I2(i 

Editor, Give Us a Puff, 21 

r'AKMER A. AND HiS BuTTER, 67 

Farmer Dobbs, .... 91 

OoiNG TO The Fair, 27 

Go Tu The Fair 122 

Hans Schmidtblastem's Baby, 57 

He 8aw Her Washing at The Tub, 62 

Hosv High is That, : 66 

1 M Such a Sleepy Man, 105 

In .Search of a Hired Girl, 131 

I Wish I Was an Editor, 135 

Jknnie, Come In, 118 

Kick Such a Fellow Eight Out, 51 

Kindling The Fire, 79 

Little Nellie and The Angels, 129 



Move In Youk Own Orbit, 85 

Mind Youk 'Biz/ 5(5 

My Mothek 59 

Miss Bibbin's Vimt, h)j 

No Place Like The Fakm 24 

Nellie Nye, (i4 

One Beau for The Four HI 

Our Preacher 141 

Printer's Devil 37 

Putting On Airs. 1 ; :;9 

Sparking Down In Maine 54 

The Muses 9 

They All Get a Letter But Me, 18 

Ten Little Y'^ankise Girlp 25 

The Man Who Sat Down On The Tacks, 2(5 

The Robins, 2)S 

The Bachelor's Eeverie 3:-5 

That Kiss, 43 

The Two Little Tramps. 49 

The Balmy Days or June 58 

The Wickedest Man in Town, 69 

The Orphan's Prayer 77 

Tut a Fine Figure 76 

The Butting Old Sheep SI 

The Cottage by the River Side, 84 

Three Year Old's Visit 86 

The Fatal Wig, 88 

'i hat Sermon. 88 

The Puzzled Voter 94 

The Drunkard\s Reform 96 

The Dutchman's Dream 100 

The Granger's Experience, 109 

The Granger's Lament, Ill 

The Farmer and Cow, 133 

The Oswego GHf)ST 144 

The Farmer Out of Debt 146 

They Are Thinking of Me, 148 



BILLY DASH POEMS. 

Weighing The Babi', .47 

Wooden jWedding, 76 

W''e Will Sign the Pledge and Keep It, 150 

PART SECOND. 

Almost Persuaded, 159 

BjiAK Thy Ckoss 173 

Eye Hath Not Seen, 168 

Farewell I'o OuB Pastok, ,165 

Feae Not, Little Flock, 167 

Gone Feom Oub Home, 182 

He Will Save A Tbusting Child, 160 

He Sleeps In The Geave, 171 

I Want To Dwell With Angels, 164 

Jepus Is Mine, 157 

No Home This Side Of The Riveb, 188 

The Better Land, 155 

The Little Ones 158 

Thji; Good Samabitan, 162 

The Rainbow of Peomise, 176 

They're Waiting to Welcome Me Home, 177 

'?'he City- of Light in The Beautiful Land, . . . 179 

Th e Dying Boy 184 

The Hour and Place 6f Peayeb, 186 

The Dying Christian, 191 

We'll Meet To Part, No, Nevee, 170 

We Miss Thee At Home 174 

Watching, Praying, Waiting, Trusting, 180 



THE MUSES. 

In my pleasant forest bower, 

The Muses meet me here; 
Sometimes their presence brings the smile, 

Sometimes the sigh, the tear; 
They speak in gentle whispers 

To my spirit soft and low, 
As they meet me in the forest. 

Where the pretty wild flowers grow. 

Whate'er may be their mission, 

'Tis pleasure to record. 
The thoughts presented by them. 

To catch each whispered word; 
And while the brooklet's murmur 

Falls gently on my ear, 
I pen their flowing numbers. 

In my leafy bower here. 

They sing of youth and beauty, 

Of manhood and of age; 
They sing of joys and sorrows. 

Of savage and of sage. 



10 BILLY DASH POEMS. 

Life's pleasures, toils and trials, 
Life's grief, and v/oe, and care; 

They sing in rapturous accents, 
The glories angels share. 



They roam o'er plain and mountain, 

Through forests' shady dell; 
They scale the heights of heaven, 

Where bright robed spirits dwell; 
They bring the loving message 

From far across the sea, 
They sing in joyful numbers, 

Of childhood's merry glee. 



The Muses, gentle Muses, 

We hold communion sweet. 
As in my shady bower. 

With me they deign to meet; 
Their soft and gentle breathings 

Fall sweetly on my ear, 
I delight to meet the Muses 

In my forest bower here. 



CENTENNIAL. 

Come now Betsy fix your tilings up, 

We'll go and see tlie show, 
We've staid at home so many years 

I think we ought to go; 
We're getting pretty old. Bet. 

Since you became my bride. 
We've never stepped upon the cars 

To take a pleasure ride. 

We have always been quite saving 

And toiled for many a year; 
The expenses will be something. 

Not very great I hear; 
You know we've money in the bank, 

Now is the time old gal, 
T'aint likely we shall live to see 

The next Centennial. 

Put on the best you've got, Betsy, 

And I will do the same; 
We would make a fine appearance 

If I was not so lame. 



12 BILLY DASH POEMS. 

"What a splendid car tliis is, Bet; 

Creation ! Hear tliat whistle scream ; 
I s'pose that screechin' signifies 

They're lettin' on the steam. 

My ! how they whiz. They beat the time 

Old 'Kate' made at the Fair. 
Cling to the seat, I tell you, Bet, 

We're Hying through the air; 
We sha'n't get half our money's worth, 

They go so 'tarnal fast; 
I'm certain if they don't slack up 

Their box of steam won't last. 



We're moving, now, in s'ciety; 

What lots of dressed up folks. 
We're whizzin' on so fast I think 

They'd better stop their jokes 
And say their prayers, for like enough 

We'll never all get through. 
Bet, if the train should jump the track, 

What would become of you ? 

I wish I'd never heard that yarn 

About old Deacon Burcli; 
Although it came through pretty straight, 

It scandalized the Church. 



BILLY DASH POEMS. 

Th3 thing was told, I think they said, 

By a lady called 'Gossip;' 
But she said "they said" or told her so- 

My ! Betsy, how we 'zip !' 



Here we are in Philadelphia, 

At the Centennial door; 
And to get inside, they tell me, 

'Twill take a dollar more. 
Bet, you stand right there a minute; 

Jake's got the stamps, you know; 
III get a couple of tickets, 

And then we'll see the show. 

Don't catch your shawl on that durned gate. 

Say, Bet, you must look out ! 
Keep your eyes open all the while, 

And mind what you're about. 
You kinder watch my pocket. Bet ; 

The rogues are very sly. 
They say they'll take your pocket book 

While looking in your eye, 

'O, Jake! I've just this minute thought 

They'll call Aunt Bet a 'shirk;' 
I feel so lost, I've come off here 

And left my knitting-work !" 



14: BILLY DASH POEMS, 

"I'm glad of that, I tell you, Bet; 

We're here to have some fuu. 
Bet, see that eagle on a pole ! 

I wish I'd brought my guu. 



Now, let's go 'round and view the thing. 

When we get home, you know, 
The boys will ask how much we spent, 

And how we liked the show. 
There's Agricultural Hall's nice house, 

He visited the Fair 
At county seat, last Fall, they said ; 

He goes 'most everywhere. 

"Jake ! Jake ! see there ! Oh, how it looks; 

They call that thing a 'trail.' 
It makes me think of neighbor Jones' 

Peacock's gaudy tail. 
Let's wait a minute. Like enough 

She'll kinder spread it out." 
"Oh, Bet, come 'long. The folks '11 think 

We don't know what we're 'bout." 



'F-L-o-R-A-L Hall' — Bet, she must be 
A cousin to neighbor Burr. 

She's got a splendid lot of flowers; 
They're taking more to her. 



BILLY DASH POEMS. 15 

'Twould make old Uncle Tim feel proud 

To see liis near relation 
Show off lier splendid posy bed, 

Before tliis miglity Nation. 

That must be Mr. Pedro, Bet, 

The papers tell about, 
If I was 'certain sure' 'twas him 

I'd swing my hat and shout. 
He looks real smart, durned if he don't; 

What a splendid head — of hair; 
They say he's rich. Gewhitaker ! 

I'd like to be his heir. 

There's pictures, statues, — everything ; 

I never saw the beat. 
Bet, I'm as hungry as a bear; 

Let's get our lunch and eat. 
I'm sure I never saw so much 

In all my life before ; 
I wish this old Centennial show 

Had come along before. 



Now, Betsy, I am glad we came. 

This is a 'normous show. 
What an awful crowd of people 

Are moving to and fro. 



Ifi 



BILLY DASH POEMS. 



Uncle Sam's a tasty fellow ; 

He's got the thing up fine ; 
Say, wouldn't you like to be here, Bet, 

To see the thin"; next time? 




GOING TO THE FAIE. 



Cams, Tommy and Jimmy, and Billy and Nell, 
And Mary and Nancy — say,motlier,\vliere's Belle ? 
Now, all wasli your faces,and comb back your liair; 
We'll hitch up the horses and go to the Fair. 

Whoa! steady,youprancer3; now,none of your tricks. 
Let mother get in to take care of the "chicks." • 
All right, go ahead; it is time we were there, 
With hearts light and happy, we're off to the Fair. 

Arrived at the gate — -want a family ticket ; 
Pa, look to your pocket or, some rogue will pick it; 
Drive on to the ground, all our neighbors are there; 
Expecting first prizes, they came to the Fair. 

Oh, what nice horses and fine blooded cattle. 
The auctioneer's tongues, oh my ! how they rattle. 
Agricultural, Floral, and Mechanics hall, too, 
Exhibit what Nature and Art can each do. 



18 BILLY DASH POEMS, 

There's A. witli liis trotter, and B. witli his stock, 
And C with his "south-downs," a verj fine flock; 
There's D. with his chickens, they look very nice; 
And there's Harry Sieh with his cage of white mic3. 

Miss F. siiows a bed quilt — live thousand pieces, 
j.Iaie from the dresses of aunts and of neices. 
Miss G. shows some n3edle-work — ^isu't it fine, 
J^earlj equal to that shown by "that wife of mine." 

The baby show — whew ! isn't it a sight ; 
Even bachelor hearts are filled with delight. 
One justmow remarked (his name is Jim Blount,) 
"I'll go and get mirried, be darned if I don't." 

Agricultural hoss trots! Wad be it ? D.on't remember; 
(To mention each thing would take till December;) 
The last thing I witnss^ed ITl ivjv forget soon — 
That splendid ascension up in a baloon. 

We've had a good time, and now, homeward we go, 
The children were pleased; 'twas a very fine show. 
Say, would you be happy, and drive away care ? 
Then hitch up the horses and go to the Fair. 



T H E Y A L L G E T A L E T T E R B U T M E. 

A Ions orphan child at the po3t-OiSce door 

Sadly waits till ths crowd goes away, 
Theif timidly asks of the master within 

" Have I got a letter to-day ?" 
His keen practiced eye quickly runs o'er the list; 
"^ " There's nothing here for you," said he. 
With a sob she exclaims, her heart almost broke, 

" They all get a letter but me." 

" Day after. day I \mxe been here," she said, 

" The great crowd has come and has gone; 
They each get a letter so pretty and neat, 

While poor little Bessie gets none; 
I wonder if God would n't send one right down, 

If he knew just hov\^ lonely I be; 
I've been here each day for the v^^eek that is past, 

And they all get a letter but me." 

" I should think tlie angels might send a fevv^ lines 

To help little Bess to be good, 
I s'pose they are busy and can't spare the time. 

Oh, dear ! how I do wish they would; 



20 BILLY DASH POEMS. 

'Cause angels conlcl tell ms about my dear ma; 

I wonder if mama can see 
As I go from this place so lonely and sad, 

'Cause tliey all get a letter but me." 



Once tlie poor child had a home and kind friends, 

So loving, and faithful and true ; 
Alas! they were called to their home in the skies ; 

Death severed each love-tie in two. 
Her sad little face, her quivering lip. 

The fast falling tears I still see. 
God pity the orphan. How bitter the thought : 

" They all get a letter but me." 



EDITOR, GIVE US A PUFF. 

I sat ill the Editor's cliair 
Witli pen in liancl, ready to write. 
The paper must be forthcoming 
On the regular Wednesday night. 
An Agent presented his' samples; 
" Please try my tobaccos and snnff, 
You will find them 'A, number 1,' sir, 
Now, Editor, give us a puff." 

The sewing machine man came next, 
With a nod he said " Say look-a-here ! 
My "machine is the best and cheapest; 
All others are poor and quite dear. 
Mine hems, stitches, ruffles and tucks, 
Beats 'em higher'n a kite, that's enough, 
With a nod and a wink he then said: 
" Now Editor give us a puff." 

This one had hardly done speaking, 
When a man with a thing on his arm 
Said to me, 'Good morning' Editor, 
Hitch up and drive out to your farm, 



BILLY DASH POESIS. 

I've the latest and greatest invention, 
It does the thing easy enough. 
It milks just ten cows a minute, 
Now Editor, give ns a puff." 

Next came a man with sheet music, 
"My songs are all new and so nice, 
They're published in cheap form you see, 
And sold at a very low price." 
He then cleared his throat with Ah-e-m-m 
Sang mi fa sol la quite enough, 
Then very good naturedly said, 
"Now Editor, give us a puff." 

The next was a patent pill man. 
He said, as he offered his hand, 
"Eureka! I've found 'em; I've got 'em ! 
The very best pill in the land. 
The dose is from six to a dozen, 
If that dosn't prove quite enough, 
Jxist double the dose, that is all, sir. 
Now Editor, give us a puff." 

A bo}' brought in his pet terrier, 
Said "isn't he ever so nice. 
Whenever that puppy grows big, 
He'll catch all the rats and the mice," 



BILLY DASH rOEMS. 23 

And tlieu I knew what was coming, 
He'd caught it I knew well enough, 
Said, " Editor you're a go:>d fellow, 
Now Editor give pup a x^uff." 

4 
Vexed almost to death I now quickly 
Told " devil" to hand me a stick. 
You ought to have seen the^chaps scatter, 
They went on a fast doiible-quick. 
The moment I sat down I saw- 
That I had got matter enough 
To fill half a column at least 
On " Editor give us a puff." 

AVhat life can one lead that's more charming, 
.Than to sit in the Editor's chair, 
• With a thousand and one subscribers. 
All waiting to comb down your hair. 
If their paper is not forthcoming; 
Surrounded by agents enough 
To fill a large cage at Barnum's, 
All waiting to get a./ree x^uff. 



NO PLILCE LIKE THE FAKM. 



No place like the farm for quiet and liealtli, 
No jDlace like the farm for labor and wealth, 
No place like the farm if we seek purest joys, 
No place like th? farm for tlio girls and boys. 

No place like the farm for frolic and glee; 
Think of tke husking and the apple bee, 
Old fashioned quiltings and visits for all, 
The old and the young, the large and the small. 

The city with farm can never compare, 
Its hot burning pavements,its foulpois'nous air 
Its corruption and vice, its infamous dens. 
Can ne'er be described with tongue nor by pens. 

No place like the farm, no place like the farm. 
In hard, honest labor you'll find there's a charm; 
Would jo-j. shun city vices,b8 safe from all harm, 
Thou stick to the farm, boys, stick to the farm. 



TEN LITTLE YANKEE GIELS. 

Teu little yankee girls standing in a line, 

One stepped out then there was nine. 

Nine little yankee girls swinging on the gate, 

One fell off then there was eight. 

Eight little yankee girls mixing up leaven, 

One got stuck then there was seven. 

Seven little yankee girls picking up sticks^ 

One got tired then there was six. 

Six little yankee girls having fun alive, 

One got sjDunky then there was five. 

JFive little yankee girls playing with the door, 

One got her finger jjinched then there was four. 

Four little yankee girls chasing a bee, 

One caught his stinger then there was three. 

Three little yankee girls sailing in a shoe. 

One jumped overboard then there was two. 

Two little yankee girls walking out together. 

One found a beau, there was none for the other. 

One little yankee girl left all alone, 

She got married then there was none. 



THE MAN WHO SATDOWN ON 
A TACK. 

Deacon L. is a very good man in his way, 
A man who controls well his spirit each da}', 
Strange though it appears in this world of strife, 
The deacon had never been riled in his life. 

But once on a time, it was house-cleaning day, 
I think it was either in April or May, 
The old deacon's wife (a good one no doubt) 
Just before breakfast pulled the carpet tacks out. 

So great was her haste to smooth down her hair, 
She left them, points up, in the old deacon's chair. 

Soon after, the deacon came in from the stable, 
Washed him, and then took his seat at the table. 
But quick as a flash he sprang to his feet. 
Turned a summer-sault backward,lie did it complete, 
And then, with a yell, he rushed to the door, 
"They've stung me again where they stung me before," 
His wife was surprised, still forgetting the tacks, 
And greatly alarmed at the .deacon's queer acts. 



BILLY DASH F0E:4S. 1 

She said to herself " he has surely gone wild, 

I never saw Isaac so thoroughly riled." 

She had scarce time to think e'er the deacon again 

Fairly roared out so great was his pain, 

"Jemima! Connecticut! Jerusha Ann!" 

" O ! deacon; stop swearing; what on earth ails 

the man ! 
He's crazy I'm certain." "Oh, dear, how they sting." 
He was just getting ready to turn a hand-spring, 
When his wife began laughing — I'm telling you 

facts, 
Ha ! ha ! deacon, ha ! ha-a-a ! they're nothing but 

tacks. 
I do beg your pardon, I was combing my hair, 
And entirely forgot the tacks in your chair. 

The deacon, half wild, could scarce make it seem 
That he was awake. He said " 'tis a dream," " 
But at last he collected his wandering mind, 
Extracted all of the tacks he could find, 
Said "bring me a cushion to put in my chair, 
Kuth, can it be that I did almost swear? 
Now Ruth keep this quiet, don't tell of it please, 
I really thought I was sitting on bees." 



THE EOBINS. 

Ill the apple tree a nest was made, 
And in tlie nest four eggs were laid; 
And there a robin sat and watched, 
Till every little egg was hatched. 



Four mouths the robin now must fill, 
Each for a worm wide opes its bill; 
With feelings of a mother in her, 
She brings them each a worm for dinner. 

Each birdie quickly drops its head. 
And snugly cuddles down in bed; 
And then in softest, sweetest tones, 
She sings to sleep her little ones. 

From bough to bough the old bird hops, 
And from the garden fills their crops; 
But still the little birdies tease, 
"Another worm, ma, if you please." 



DEINK NOTHING BUT WATER. 

Drink nothing but water, 

There's nothing so pure; 
It quenches the thirst, 

Of the rich and the poor; 
God gave it a blessing 

'To great and to small; 
Then drink this pure beverage, 

Or nothing at all. 

Drink nothing but water, 

Pure, sparkling and bright; 
Flowing fresh from the fountain 

By day and by night, 
It gives health and long life, 

No woe shall betide 
The man who drinks water, 

And nothing beside. 

All Nature drinks water. 

Each leaf of the bower; 
The field and the forest. 

And each tiny flower; 



BILLY DASH POEMS. 



The beautiful house-plant 
We care for within, 

Would wither and die, 
If treated with gin. 



In the wine cup there's sadness, 

There's woe, there is death; 
In water there is gladness. 

Each draught gives us life; 
Then drink naught but water. 

Naught but pure water give 
To your neighbor to drink. 

As long as you live. 




ONE BEAU FOB THE E O U B. 

Mks. Gough. 
"We must have a servant, 

Mr. Gougli it won't do; • 
There's this one, and that one, 

And the other one too ; 
They all keep a servant. 

Now, I'll tell you my mind : 
We must have a servant — 

Get the first you can find. 



There's Sarah, and Anna," 

And Mary; and Nell ; 
We want them to marry. 

And, of course, marry well. 
We must have a servant 

To do washing and baking, 
While our daughters are learning 

The ways that are " taking." 

They are pretty enough 

For a " number one" catch :— 

A merchant, a lawyer. 
Or a wealthy old bach; 



BILLY DASH POEMS. 32 



But they've no time to flirt, 

And every one knows 
Girls don't^marry nowadays, 

Till they've fooled several beaux, 

Mr. Gougli, now of course 

You will get one right off; 
Don't speak of expenses, 

Oh, now don't Mr. Gough; 
I would much rather sell 

Every egg that is laid, 
Than have one of our girls 

" Live an^ die" an old maid. 

Mb. Gough. 

We're keeping a servant, 

And we have been for years; 
Our daughters unmarried; 

We begin to have fears 
We'll have to keep Bridget 

For several years more, 
For it stands just like this, 

One beau for the four. 



THE BACHELOK'S REVEEIE. 

On the shady side of forty, 

Here a bachelor I sit ; 
To the arts love and beauty 

I am not a victim yet, 
Though I've met the fairest ladies, 

Cuj^id's pointed little dart 
Has never found an entrance 

To my ever guarded heart. 

I do 'bout half remember 

A s^veet charming angel face, 
Such as the poets picture. 

Full of beauty, love and grace. 
And I once thought I was smitten 

By the banker's pretty daughter ; 
But I know I was mistaken, 

For another fellow got her. 

Though I never knew exactly 

How the thing was brought about ; 

Yet I never have regretted 
That the fellow "cut me out," 



34 BILLY DASH POEMS. 

I have watched that couple closely, 
And I'm much inclined to think 

That the chap was badly cheated, 
Though he got the banker's "chink. 

With my mind somewhat unsettled, 

I am sitting here to night, 
Sewing on a missing button, 

By a tallow candle light ; 
And each time I prick my fingers 

With the"" needle's sharpened end 
I 'most wish it was the fingers 

Of — some pretty lady friend. 

. On the shady side of forty ! 

Whew ! that needle's got a point ; 
Is n't a firm without a partner 

Just a little out of joint ? 
I'm already half persuaded — 

Blast that needle ! how it pricks — 
I've decided to get married 

To that wealthy widow Hicks. 



MOVE IN YOUR OWN OEBIT. 

Tlie myriad orbs of lieaven 

Move witli very great precision 
In an orbit of tlieir own, 
And thus avoid collision. 



If one of least dimension 
From its orbit turn aside, 

'T would surely give occasion 
For a dozen to collide. 



And tlien this dozen planets 

Swiftly dashing through the air 

'Gainst other dozen planets, 
Makes confusion everywhere ; 

Till all the planets, in commotion. 
Are dashing 'gainst each other, 

Just because a little planet 

Rudely jostle ;I 'gainst its brother. 



36 BILLY DASH POEMS. 

You've an orbit of your own, 
Mind your business like a man; 

Do not meddle vnih your neighbor, 
Do not intercept liis plan; 

Tliink of tlie little planet, 

"Wliicli by stepping out of line 

Sets the heavens in commotion, 
And as quickly ceased to shine. 



^ PEINTER'S DEVIL. 



Of all beings on earth of whom I can think, 
And especially those connected with ink, 
There's no being charged witli and suffers such 

evil. 
As the queer little being we call printer's devil. 



The Editor, short of the usual news; 
To fill up his paper is writing his views ; 
His thoughts. fail to flow, he tries hard to think, 
Then cusses his devil for such miserable ink. 

The compositors go " just for fun" on a bender, 
Next morn find themselves feeling quite tender ; 
Hair pulls, they are cross because of their revel, 
They must kick some one, and so kick the devil. 

He's an odd looking fellow, spotted with ink ; 
Broad forehead,keen eye,and a sly knowing wink, 
He is found at his post, patient and civil. 
And smiles when you call him a fine looking devil. 



BILLY DASH POEMS. 



There a 'good time coming' for liim,yon know, 
These devils sometimes to Editors grow ; 
And then in his greatness, forgetting this evil, 
He'll pour out his wrath on his own printer's devil. 




A LITTLE BOY'S POCKET. 

Hold your hand papa 

I'll show you some things 

I've got in my pocket; 

Two nice Mttle rings, 

Here, take tliem, this piece of ' 

Slate pencil, you see, 

Is all that is left of 

The one you gave me. 

Look ! this candy I got 

Of small Johnny York; , 

I traded him two 

Little pieces of cork. 

This silver pen holder 

I got of Jim Dack, 

I'm 'fraid that his mother 

Will make liim trade back. 

And this lump of white chalk 

I got for some strings; 

I keep it to rub up 

My pretty gold rings. 

That pen-knife lacks only 

A handle and blade, 

I guess I got cheated, 



40 BILLY DASH POEMS- 

'Twant much of a trade. 
Xuse this quill tooth-pick 
To get from my teeth 
The little small bits of 
Bill Butcher's tough beef. 
With this piece of rubber, 
I rub out the mark 
They call a demerit. 
Pa, hear that dog bark 
' At my little tin horse, 
And this leather cow; 
Sometimes I'm afraid 
They'll " kick up" a row. 
And this little cake, 
Jvisfc smell it, how nice ! 
'Fumery they call it. 
Two pins was the price. 
Here's something that's yellow, 
Say, pa, is that gold? 
Strange how much a little 
Boy's pocket will hold. 



A STRANGE WAY. 

'Tis strange what a way the people are in, 
They're friendly to each other's face; 

But the moment one's back is turned, then begins 
A tirade of abuse and disgrace. 

It matters not much what station you're in, 

A priest or a cobbler or hatter, 
To your face they're your friends, to your back 
deadly foes, 

With slander their tongues fairly clatter. 

To your face men praise the sermon you preach, 
"■ Twill surely bring some to the fold;" 

To your back you will find each man changed his 
mind, 
"The same thing has often before been told." 

A doctor is sent for in very great haste. 

The family now praises his skill; 
The patient recovers, " his pills did no good. 

His service was not worth his bill. 



42 BILLY DASH POEMS. 

The printer wlio makes the paper you take, 

Is a very fine fellow you sa}-, 
'Till he sends in his bill and asks for your tin, 

" Stop my paper," you add the next day. 

Mrs. A. highly praises the beautiful dress 
Which you wore at her house on a call; 

When you're gone she has " twenty much finer 
than that; 
It wan't much of a dress after alL" 

It's " how do you do, deacon Jones, I'm j^our friend, 

On me you can surely rely;" 
The reporter next day makes the same person say, 

" I think deacon Jones ought to die." 

'Tis strange what a way the people are in. 
They're friendly to each other's face; 

But the moment one's back is turned then begins 
A tirade of abuse and disgrace. 



THAT KISS. 

One morning very early, 

While riding out on " biz," 
I overtook a couple 

"With red hair and cute "phiz;" 
He put his arm around her, 

He smacked her, O, what bliss ! 
I caught the fellow at it, 

I saw him steal that kiss. 

The maiden blushed a little, 

" 'Bout the color of her hair," 
As soon as she discovered 

That Bill Dash was there, 
Said, " Good morning, Mr. Dash, 

Quite eraly to ride out. 
You saw that fellow — kiss me, 

You'll tell of it no doubt. 



I smiled and told the lady 

I'd keep the thing quite still ; 

She said " I don't believe it. 
Look here ! I know you, Bill ; 



41- BILLY DASH POEMS. 

You'll have it in the pampers 
Before to-morrow night." 

And so, to prove her words true, 
Of course I've had to write. 

MORAL. 

Now, gents, before you kiss her ; 

And ladies, too, beware ! 
Wait a moment, look around; 

Perhaps there's some one there. 
But if you are satisfied 

There's no one at your backs — 
You knov/ just how 'tis yourselves : 

One — two — three, blissful smacks. 




A POLITICIAN'S SOLILOQUY, 

I've got the nomination, 

And president I'll be, ^ 

'Twas managed very nicely, 

Hurrali ! three cheers for me. 
I kept inside the " ring," 

Pulled wires all along, 
I'm just the same as 'lected, 

Our party is so strong. 

I expect the Editors 

Will each unsheath his knife; 
Before I reach the White House 

They'll nearly take my life. 
'Tis said the rule's a poor one 

That will not work each way; 
After election's over, 

O, won't I make it pay! 

See, when a fellow gets there. 

There's offices to let; 
Brave patriots that want them. 

They'll bid up high, "you bet." 



46 BILLY DASH POEMS. 

How tlie money will come in, 
I almost liear it jingle — 

Hark ! what was that ? ah ! I know 
Conscience felt a tingle, 

But then, 'twill quiet conscience 

To be a President ; 
And you're only getting back 

The money you have spent 
In buying your election, 

That makes a perfect joint. 
That's logic — you can't beat it; 

And conscience sees the point. 



Heigh, ho ! Election's over, 

And I'm out in the cold. 
('Tis just the same old story- 

Our candidate was sold." 
I'm beat out of my money ; 

My character is gone ; 
My honorable opponent 

Is going to Washington. 



WEIGHING THE BABY. 

Tie the knot tightly, 

Don't let her fall, 
She's a "nine pounder," 

And that will be all; 
Hook to the steelyards, 

There — steady, that's right, 
I've guessed her too high, 

She won't weigh it quite. 

"I's dot a sister," 

Said dear little Fred, 
" Me help 'oo' auntie, 

Me'll hold up her head." 
Dear Freddie stand back. 

There, steady, that's the last notch 
She won't go another; 
Fred ! Freddie, don't touch. 



Unhook the steelyards, 
Don't stand in the light. 

Six — seven — eight — nine and- 
My ! that is a sight; 



48 



BILLY DASH POEMS. 

>Slie beat all our guessino-, 
O ! how we did laugh, 

That babj pulled up 
Nine pounds and a half. 




THE TWO LITTLE TEAMPS. 



"May we stay here to-niglit? we're hungry and cold, 
We've just prayed to God, He hears us we're told, 
We asked Him to feed us and give us a bed. 
We're too small to work, we're begging for bread." 

"Out in the cold, no friends and no home. 
Thinly we're clad and sadly we roam. 
All day by the hand little sister I've led, 
We're too small to work, we're begging for bread." 

"Many long miles we have wandered to-da}^, 
We've no where to go, we've no where to stay; 
Our father drinks rum, our mother is dead, 
We're too small to work, we're begging for bread." 

Then lisped little sister, a sweet three-year old, 
"We want to tome in, we is most awful cold; 
We did n't dit dinner, we wants to be fed, 
We is too small to work, we's begging for bread." 



50 BILLY DASH POEMS. 

Come in little ones, God sent you I know, 

Fortlie two He took from us a sliort time ago; 

Tlie Lord lieard your prayer, no more shall you roam, 

We'll feed you, and lore you and give you a home. 

We gave them their supper and tucked them in bed, 
We heard little sister as child-like she said, 
"Ma said Dod would hear us if only we'd pray, 
We's dot here, now Willie less don't do away." 



God pity the men who deal out the rum 

Which breaks loving hearts, which desolates homes, 

Which drives the small child, wdtli ringlet-crowned 

head, 
To tramp the cold street and beg for its bread. 



KICK SUCH A FELLOW RIGHT OUT 

When a fellow is prospering finely, 

And "shells" out at every call; 
Pays well at all the donations, 

Don't "snub" him, oh, no, not at all; 
But should adverse fortune o'ertake him, 

True friendship turns quickly about, 
It then becomes duty and pleasure 

To kick such a fellow right out. 



Perhaps, too, his health has quite failed him 

His money has run very low. 
And he fails in "A, 1" society 

To make a respectable show; 
No matter how hard he may struggle, 

He's tricky there isn't a doubt; 
Just blow him "sky high" for amusement. 

And kick such a fellow right out. 

Ask not has he soul, has he feelings; 

The question is, "does he to-day 
Shell out at all the donations — 

Continue to liberally pay?" 



52 BILLY DASH POEMS. 

If uot, form a strong combinat'.oa, 
Let each take a twist at liis 'snout,' 

And "bust" him because they can "bust" him. 
Then kick such a fellow rio-ht out. 



You've position to back you, that's better, 

That makes you both powder and shot, 
Your influence is so much the greater, 

You're able to keep the thing hot. 
A fig for any man's standing. 

When a few "number ones" turn about, 
They slander, abuse and condemn him, 

Then kick such a fellow right out. 



THE BALMY DAYS OF JUNE. 

The balmy days of June have come, 
Rich verdure clothes the trees ; 

"We listen to the busy hum 
Of ever toiling bees. 

The fields are green, the opening buds 
Unfold their blooming flowers ; 

Nature awakes to life again, 
Refreshed by gentle showers. 

The skipping lambs, the lowing herds, 

Are feeding on the hills ; 
They slake their thirst at nature's fount, 

The spring, the brook, the rills. 



All nature seems in sweet accord 
Leaflets in perfect tune 

Are offering praises to the Lord, 
These balmy days of June. 



SPAEKING DOWN IN MAINE. 



Once I went sparking down in Maine 
To see my pretty Sall}^ Jane ; 

Like other gents, with prospects fair, 
I built my castle in the air. 



One night, I asked her to be mine ; 

To answer yes she did incline ; 
But laughing, said ha ! ha ! ha ! ha ! 

Dear Stephen, you must ask my ma. 



Things were all right 'tween Sal and me 
But that old lady, don't you see, 

She very quickly turned about, 
And told me I was 'counted out.' 



I thought a buzzing bumble bee 
And forty snakes were after me ; 

The telegraph ran down my back ; 

My heart went thump,ker thump,kerwhack. 



BILLY DASH POEMS. 55 

I surely tliought that I should die 

When Sally said bo-o ! ho-o ! good bye ; 

But soon she married to another. 

Fine girl ! She tried to please her mother. 



And so I said, to make it even, 

I'd marry, sure's my name was Stephen. 
I sent a girl a perfumed letter — 

She telegraphed she could do better. 



These jyietij girls you can't believe ; 

They sweetly smile, and then deceive. 
Some chap with 'stamps' will make you stare, 

And smash your castle in the air, 



MIND YOUE 'BIZ.' 

How is it tliat we find, 
Some men so much inclined, 

With their nose. 
To pry into your 'biz,' 
And so thoroughly to quiz 

What you j)ropose. 
If you chance to get a letter, 
Some inquisitive old setter 

Wants to know 
Where it came from, by whom wrote; 
What its contents, cash or note, 

You must show. 
If you refuse to tell, 
You have not used him well ; 

He is mad ; 
And when he gets a chance, 
With his nose, a sharpened lance. 

He'll wound you bad. 
It tries my patience much 
To be button-holed by such ; 

How they quiz ! 
I want to seize their nose, 
Twist a little, and propose : 

" Mind your biz.'' 



HANS SCHMIDTBLASTEM'S BABY. 

Dot poy peats all der pabies 

Dot efer I did see ; 
He's shust so fat as anydings, 

So peautiful as me. 
He vakes up efery morning, 

Und mit der rliooster glirows ; 
Und den lie galls for glirackers, 

Dots wliy dot paby grows. 

Dot poy scratch all mine eyes oud, 

Pulls my moustache und my hair ; 
I told dot child to sthop dot, 

Mine crief ! he doesn't care ! 
I sphank dot poy all ofer 

If he don't pelongs to me ; 
So mooch I lofe dot paby, 

I let dot sphanking pe. 

I makes dot poy a farmer, 
He don't goes beddling peer ; 

Don't make his lifing dot way. 
Now, paby, does you hear ? 



o8 BILLY DASH POEMS. 



He sliakes lie's head, p^- gracious ! 

All ofer, dot isli so. 
Oil, vat moost dot child gomes to, 

To dreat his fadder so. 



Dot poj vas mooch too bretty 

For any name, py jinks ! 
Mine frow und I vakes up all right, 

Und efery name we dinks, 
Py gracious ! I vants no more 

Sooch bretty child as he ; 
I names him Hans Schmidtblastem, 

Dot spheils him after me. 

Dot gvirly head is lefel, 

As efer I did see; 
He rules mine house 'fore long dimes, 

Rules mine dear frow und me; 
But still I lofes dot paby, 

I drots him on my knee; 
Dot poy beats all der pabies, 

Dot efer I did see. 



MY MOTHER. 

Wlio sends for the Doc. when I am ill 
And makes me take his bitter pill? 
Mv mother. 

Who says dear sonny go to school, 
And whips me if I break a rule? 
My mother. 

Who tells me I'm her little pet, 
And scolds me when I say 'you bet' *? 
My mother. 

Who seAvs a button on my jacket. 
And 'warms' me if I make a racket ? 

My mother. 

I 

Who catches me in her preserves. 
Gives me what such a bo}^ deserves ? 
My mother. 

Who sews the rip that's in my clothes, 
Sends me to watch where father goes ? 
My mother. 

Who'll miss her boy when I am gone, 
And wish she hadn't "put it on?" 
My mother. 



VOTE IT DOWN. 

Vote it down! Vote it down, 

Temperance men, never yield; 
"With faith and the ballot 

Stand firm in the field; 
Like God's servant David, 

With this sling and stone, 
Your faith and the ballot. 

Vote it down! Vote it down. 

This Goliath, intemperance; 

On his strong staff of gold. 
Has long boasted his strength. 

Defiant and bold. 
To slay tliis man slayer, 

A sure weapon is found, 
'Tis the ballot ! the ballot I 

Vote it down I Vote it down. 

We have voted it down. 

Hurrah for the right. 
We knew God was with us 

When we entered the fioht. 



BILLY DASH POEMS. 

It was closely contested 
In village and town, 

But the vict'ry is ours, 
We voted it down. 



Gl 




HE SAW HEE WASHING AT 
THE TUB. 

He saw her washing at the tub, 

His pretty Susan Eand, 
She dabbled in the foamy suds, 

How delicate her hand; 
Her sleeves above her elbows, 

Her arms how plump and white; 
He thought in all his life before / 

He'd ne'er seen such a sight. 

A row of pretty pearly teeth. 

Lips that were cherry red. 
Rich auburn ringlets crowned her brow, 

A noble queenly head; 
Loose Howing robe — there goes a dart ! 

(She looked so pure and sweet) 
Ah ! Cupid thrust him through the heart. 

He fell at Susie's feet. 

MORAL. 

Young ladies jou should not regret 
That washing day comes 'round; 



BILLY DASH TOEMS. 63 

Tuck up your sleeves and smile your best, 

And at tlie tub be found 
Up to your elbows in the suds, 

A stocking in each hand. 
You can't tell who is watching you, 

Remember Susie Eand. 



ADVICE TO BOYS. 

Now boj's, I pray you, take ni}' advice, 
Shun the wine cup, tobacco, billiards and dice, 
Be kind to your playmates,never quarrel or fight, 
Y^ield not to temptation but dare to do right. 



NELLIE NYE. 



O, tlie days when I went sparking, 

To see my pretty Nell, 
In a cottage by the wayside, 

Where the brook ran through the dell, 
Where violets were blooming. 

And ivy climbing high; 
There many happy hours I've spent. 

With my sweet Nellie Nye. 

With a heart so light and happy, 

I've wandered down the lane, 
And away across the meadow. 

To see my Nell again. 
There fondly to caress her, 

Beneath the star-lit sky ; 
Those hours I never shall forget. 

Spent with my Nellie Nye. 

Lovely Nell and I were married, 

And walking hand in hand. 
We've journeyed on together, 

Toward Canaan's happy land. 



BILLY DASH POEMS. 65 

Oft times, in deep affliction, 

The tear lias dimmed her eye ; ' 

But ever faithful, she has been 

The same true Nellie Nye. 

The cottage lies in ruins, 

It fell long years ago. 
The flowers have ceased to bloom there, 

The brook has ceased to How ; 
But with pretty Nell unchanging, 

The years glide sweetly by. 
I'm sure I never shall regret 

Sparking sweet Nellie Nye. 




HOW HIGH IS THAT. 



Smith's wife ran into neighbor Jenks' 
(He'd just stopj)ed drinking gin) 

To give a word of good advice, 
Soon Smith himself dropped in. 



Ah ! how is this ? you promised, Jenks, 
That you would drink no more ; 

I'm sure I heard you smack your lips 
As I came in the door. 



I've heard it said that temperance men 

Would take it on the sly, 
And now I almost think they do. 

Jenks, how is that for high ? 

Now, Smith, you've made a great mistake. 

You'll laugh, I'll bet m^^ hat. 
Ha ! ha ! I simply kissed your wife ! 

Say, Smith, how high is that ? 



FAEMER A. AND HIS BUTTER. 



A very fine dairy has old farmar A., 
He makes 'gilt edge' butter, his neighbors all say. 
Now old farmer A. thought his butter so nice 
That by holding he'd get a much higher price. 

JUNE. 

Good morningjgood morning,the middle-man said. 
Have you butter to sell? Farmer A. shook his head. 
What d'ye pay? "thirty-five, a very fair price." 
Mr. A. shook his head ; "my butter's too nice." 



SEPTEMBER, 

I've called round again to look at your butter. 
This remark set the old farmer's heart in a flutter; 
(It's advanced, his calling shows that very plain, 
I think I'll not sell till it goes up again.) 
What d'ye pay ? "forty cents," the middle-man said. 
That's a little more like it,but still shook his haal. 



68 BILLY DASH POEMS. 

NOVEMBER. 

I wanted some "gilt edge" some A, number one," 
I think to the very "top notch" it has gone; 
Mr. A., you had better take my advice, 
Dispose of your butter while it brings a good price; 
Of course you're aware you may hold it too long, 
The very best butter sometimes becomes strong. 
'.'What d'ye pay?" forty-five, the middle man said. 
"Let her bob up to fifty," he still shook his head. 

MARCH. 

The butter is frowy, he'll hold it no longer, 
For every day it tastes stronger and stronger; 
Sorry that he hadn't sold when 'twas higher. 
He starts off to town to hunt up the buyer; 
The middle-man's trier goes down through the stuff. 
Whew ! Whew ! how it smells, one smell is enough, 
"I don't wish to buy it." "make an offer,do,please." 
"Mr. A. I am paying ten cents for poor grease." 

MORAL. 

Now don't hold too long because a thing's nice, 
Let it slide every time when it brings a good price. 



THE WICKEDEST MAN IN TOWN. 

I sat in my study musing, 

I though what shall I write, 
'Tis noon, it must be sent 

To the Editor to-night. 
I said, there's Gossip coming, 

I'll write his language down. 
The theme on which he sj)oke 

Was "the wickedest man in town." 

Old Gossip was on tire, 

He'd called to free his mind, 
He said his neighbor Slander 

Was the meanest of mankind; 
He called him thief and villain, 

He cursed him up and down^ 
Then clinched the whole by saying, 

"He's the wickedest man in town." 

Friend Gossip's mission ended, 
He bowed and said good day. 

He'd scarcely reached his dwelling, 
Which stands across the way, 



70 BILLY DASH POEMS. 

Before old Slander entered, 
And pacing up and down, 

Began where Gossip left it : 
" The wickedest man in' town." 

But Gossip was his victim, 

Old Slander was all right; 
I thought, "Old fellow, blow him. 

My poem goes to-night." 
He gave old Gossip 'Jesse ;' 

My ! how he combed him down ! 
And then wound up by saying : 

"He's the wickedest man in town." 

Again left to my musing, 

I said "now I will write, 
I'll jot their language down. 

And send it out to-night." 
Across the street they're chatting, 

They call me fool and clown, 
They each agree to publish me 

The wickedest man in town. 

'Tis strange what times we live in, 
How all men cut and slash, 

How each man chops his neighbor 
To mince meat or to hash. 



BILLY DASH POEMS. 

Now isn't it amusingr. 

From priest to cobbler down, 
That each one calls his neighbor 

The wickedest man in town. 



71 




COURTSHIP. 



Whiskers, moustache, congress gaiters, 
Garments brushed by colored waiters, 
A beaver hat, the hitest style, 
And face aglow with love-lit smile. 

Shopping, starching, curling, painting, 
Laced so tight she's almost fainting. 
Walking, talking, riding, flirting. 
Thus proceeds our modern courting. 

Tears ago 'twas spinning, weaving ; 
Nathan calls to spend an evening ; 
Washing, moppincr, baking, sweeping. 
Calls again to go to meeting. 

Then a real old fashioned wedding : 
Cookies, doughnuts and plum puddings ; 
A cow and wheel the 'setting out' ; 
Beats all how times have cTianged about. 



THE OEPHAN'S PRAYER. 

The "Excise Board" was sitting : 

For license, men applied, 
Assuming, if the price was paid, 

No one should be denied. 
To listen to 'petition,' 

And answer every 'prayer' — 
To 'legalize' the traffic — 

The Board was sitting there. 

Men hardened by hard drinking, 

Fearing neither God or man, 
Prayed for a hotel license 

To forward Satan's j)lan. 
Men dressed in finest broadcloth, 

(For which poor men had wrought,) 
To sell in larger measure, 

A 'drug store' license sought. 

But one among the number, 

A maid of tender years, 
But poorly clad, half famished, 

With eyes suifused with tears, 



74 BILLY DASH POEMS. 

Is there to plead for temperance ; 

To tell how sad her lot — 
How fearful was the ruin 

Intemperance had wrought. 

S':8 said, "I pray you, listen, 

That I may tell you how 
I came to stand before you, 

As I am standing now, 
A sad and lonely orphan ; 

No home, no friends below ; 
D )ai' mothor's dead, and father's gone 

Where all who drink must go : 
Down to the grave in deep disgrace, 

Covered with sin and shame. 
Th^se men who ask for license 

Are more than he to blame. 



In rags I stand before you, 

While these, -so nicely dressed, 
H ive all that human heart can wish — 

Of every good possessed ; 
In gilded palaces they live, 

Yi hile thousands more like me 
Without a homs to shelter them 

A; 3 driffcinj; on life's sea. 



BILLY DASH POEMS. 75 

How m.iny noble gifted men 

Are smitten bj the foe ; 
How many hearts, once liappy hearts, 

Are filled with grief and woe. 
Think of the drunkard's wife and child — 

I pray you, stay this tide ! 
Which o'er the land a flood of death 

Is sweeping far and wide. 

Ah ! once — it almost breaks my heart 

To think how much I've lost — 
A happy home, kind loving friends ; 

Alas ! how great the cost ; 
That these few men before you, 

So wealthy might become. 
I pray you, do not license them 

To sell the j)eople rum. 

'Twas thus she plead, 

The orphan child, 
Tears stood in every eye ; 

Her tattered dress, her famished look. 
Her half despairing sigh, 

Had moved their hearts; they saw and i'olt 
The truth of every word ; 

In vain were prayers for license — 
The orphan's prayer was heard. 



TUT A FINE FIGURE. 



Two little children were busy at play, 
Talking it over; I lieard Jimmy say: 
"When we dits big let's we dit married, 
And have a nice house, horses and tarriage." 



'We'll dest do dat fing when we dits bigger, 
Nice d'esses and yings, tut a fine 'figger,' 
Big bustle and hoops" — Jim was offended — 
"I s'ant pay 'oo' bills" — there the thing ended. 



This cutting fine figures spoils many a match; 
How many young ladies have lost a good catch, 
And many poor fellows who are subject to will 
Have wished themselves single when "footing 
the bill." 



DON'T WOREY AND FRET. 

Keep quiet, keep quiet, 

Take everything cool, 
Don't worry and fret, 

Let this be your rule. 
Never mind though old Brin 

Has broke through the fence, 
And butter goes down 

To just eighteen pence, 
And bugs on potatoes 

Are chewing away. 
While grasshoppers injure 

The new crop of hay. 
Settle down to one thing, 

"It is all for the best," 
Do your planting and hoeing. 

Don't fret 'bout the rest. 



Don't you see? old Brin 
Will give the more milk. 

And if butter is low, 
We'll buy the less silk. 



78 BIILY DASH POEMS. 

A word about butter : 

'Tliough it hurts you and I, 
'Tis a blessing to those 

Who have it to buy ; 
And if bugs eat up half 

Of our 'tato crop, 
The rest will sell high, — 

That thing is "sure pop !" 
Should the hay crop be short, 

Now don't you get blue ; 
You know that the cattle 

Have always got through. 



I know of no one who 

Has patience to let ; 
But we can't change the weather, 

Don't worry and fret. 



KINDLING THE F I E E. 

Faith and be jabbers ! and where is me throwsers, 
Say, Teddy, 'tis cowld out here on the floor, 

Me throwsers ! me throwsers ! me sowl,how I shiver; 
Bates all how the cowld comes in 'neath the door. 

Sure as I'm living the splinters are missing ; 

Who's burned up the kindlin's that I split last night? 
'Tis cowlder than Graneland, wake ye up,Teddy, 

The lamp's on the stliand, please strike me alight. 

Be jabbers, I'm flnishod^I fell over the chradle, 
I've spilled the dear baby all over the floor ; 

He'll froze to death, surely ; now,Teddy,belave me, 
The wind blows upon him from under the door. 

Ocli ! me dear shins ! In falling I've pealed them ! 

I've blacked me own eye; I've smashed me ow^i nose 
Bad luck to fire ! Me throwsers ! I've found them ; 

Be dad ! 'gainst the stove leg I'm stubbing me toes 

Arrah ! as yez live, I've found the lost splinters. 
And soon will the fire be snapping, dear Ted ; 

Here,take young Michael,make room for the baby, 
'Tis mesilf will be soon tumbling back into bed. 



WOODEN WEDDING. 

Five years liave quickly passed away, 
Since you were joined together 

In matrimony's lioly bonds, 
To live, and love each other. 

W^e meet to-night to call to mind 

The solemn vows then taken. 
To bid "God speed" two loving hearts, 

In confidence unshaken, 
And share the pleasures of the hour — 

Your "wooden" celebration. 

We've brought our wash tubs, rolling pins, 

Our wooden mop and pail. 
Our broom — make Curtis use it, please, 

And hang it on a nail. 

Potato smashers, butter bowl. 

Wash-stand, and clothes-pins, too, 

And baby chairs — there's two, at least, 
How will that number do ? 

And we present this wooden-ware 

With our congratulation. 
And hope you each may live to see 

Your 'golden' celebration. 



THE BUTTING OLD SHEEP. 

Old farmer D. liad a 

Butting old sheep ; 
No one ever caught the 

Old fellow asleep. 
The neighbors were shy 

As they passed by the house, 
They eyed the old sheep ': 

As a cat would a mouse. 
In spite of their watching, 

Sometimes Master Dick 
Would get in a bruiser ; 

It hurt like 'old Nick !' 

They at last called a meeting— 
'Twas held on the sly, 

And passed resolutions 
That Dickie must die. 

'Twas arranged that old D. 

Be invited away 
To visit a friend for 

A night and a day. 



BILLY DASH P0EM5. 

Tills iiaving been done 

The neighbors agree 
To suspend by a chain, 

From the limb of a tree, 
A sledge hammer, then 

To give it a swing, 
And lead Dickie out 

To view the queer thing. 

As the sledge hammer swung 

From the south to the north. 
The sheep began butting — 

He marched back and forth; 
And every time the 

Sledge hammer swung back 
The old fellow hit it 

A terrible whack. 

As the sun for the night 
Settled down in the west 

They left butting Dick 
Doing his level best. 

Next morn they arose at 

The dawn of the day 
To see if the sheep was 

Still butting away. 



BILLY DASH POEMS. 83 

Like a ship in distress, 

"Without rudder or [sail, 
Nothing was left but 

The old fellow's tail. 

The truth I must tell, 

Seem strange though it may, 
The tail of that sheep 

Was still butting, away ! 

Sometimes we see neighbors, 

Of reason bereft, 
Butt away at each other 

'Till nothing is left. 




THE COTTAGE BY THE EIVEE-SIDE 

To-night, fond mem'ry takes me back 

To childhood's days, so quickly past ; 
Again I am a happy child, 

Unharmed by earth's cold withering blast. 
Again I stand at father's knee, 

Again I sit at mother's side; 
Again in loving arms I'm clasped. 

My mother's joy, my father's pride. 

Again with jjlaymate, hand in hand. 

As in my childhood oft I've strayed, 
I wander o'er the hill-side green, 

Or pluck wild flowers in forest shade. ; 
Again I bow at mother's knee, 

And softly say my evening prayer ; 
I feel her spirit presence now, 

My angel mother, thou art near. 

How swiftly fly life's fleeting years, 
Like flitting shadows they pass by. 

Made up of joys, of hopes, of fears, 
Fond memory brings the tear, the sigh. 



BILLY DASH POEMS. 85 

Altliough life's noon-day sun shines bright, 

And purest joys to bless me come ; 
I'll ne'er forget my childhood's hours, 

I'll ne'er forget my childhood's home. 

Where e'er I dwell, where e'er I roam, 
As down life's stream I gently glide, 

I'll ne'er forget my childhood's home, 
The cottage by the river-side. 



THEEE YEAR OLD'S VISIT. 

Dran'ma, I's tome to see 'oo, 

I owes 'oo a visit, 'oo know ; 
'Ob said so at our house, 'oo 'member, 

And I finks I owes 'oo one, too. 
So I lias tome over to see 'oo. 

And dit some 'our dood chicken pie. 
Dran'ma, is dinner 'most ready ? 

Does 'oo have 'oo chickens to buy ? 

Dolly fought she would tome wiv me, 

'Oo know she is most a year old ; 
I said ' 'oo dearest sweet dolly, 

I's 'fraid if 'oo go 'oo'U take cold.' 
I tucked her all nice in her bed. 

And said, 'ittle dolly, don't cry, 
And when I tome home from dran'ma' s, 

I'll bring 'oo some dood chicken pie. 

Dran'ma, I des I is hungry. 

Don't 'oo fink I've been here dood while ? 
Ma put on 'is dess, and she telled me 

She finks it is dest in 'ee style. 



BILLY DASH POEMS. 87 

M}' kitty and cloggy dot fighting, 
I frowed a stick at 'em, O my! — 

Say "dran'ma, has 'oo been to dinner, 
And eat all 'oo dood chicken pie?" 

God bless the dear little children, 

They'll never be children again, 
We know life's changes will bring them 

Much pleasure and also much pain; 
Then make all the little ones happy, 

No harmless amusement deny. 
And when they pay "dran'ma" a visit. 

Give them plenty of "dood" chicken pie. 



THE FATAL WIG. 

A lover asked of liis loved one fair 
A little lock of her auburn hair 

To wear near his heart, he said. 
She quickly replied, ' I've none to spare ; 
I've been thinking, sir, of buying more hair, 

To hide the bald spot on my head. 

I love you the more, you dear little elf : 
He lifted his wig ; I'm bald myself, 

You'll marry me, now, I know. 
Oh, no, she said ; if you've no 'wool,' 
"When I get vexed there'll be nothing to pull ; 

I never can marry you, Joe. 

And there 'twas left— it stands there yet. 
The fellow says he's ready to bet. 

Since that disastrous night 
No man or woman, little or big, 
Has seen him lift that fatal wig — 

I think she served him right. 



THAT SEEMOK 

Elder Faitliful preached liere last Sunday, 

He spoke on liis favorite theme ; 
He gave the folks 'fits' on the fashions, 

He had on a full head of steam. 
His sermon went dashing and crashing 

Through each sister s 'latest style' hat ; 
He sa.id, " 'Tis a sin to 'flam' out so" — 

Old Fogy smiled when he heard that. 

And then he let fly at the horseman, 

(I'm sure it was Bilkins he meant. 
I ventured 'Amen' when he hit him, 

To give it my fullest assent. 
I've a grudge against old Brother Bilkins 

Concerning a matter of deal ; 
I'm sure all the people saw clearly 

Who the Elder was trying to 'peal.') 

The Elder then spoke of the tattlers, 
The 'back-biters,' liars and such ; 

He gave them a terrible whipping, 
Then jDut on the finishing touch 



90 BILLY DASH POEMS. 

By saying, "away iu tlie future" — 

I turned my eyes toward Deacon Day, 

But I saw by liis glance at liis neighbor 
He was giving tlie wliole thing away. 

He spoke quite at length of church gam bling ; 

Of prize rings 'done up' in a cake, 
Of 'fish-ponds,' of 'grab-bags,' and such things. 

He said: "we may just as well shake 
The coppers to see vv^ho shall have them ! 

Pray, brethren, don't think me too fast ; 
For gambling is gambling— can't dodge it ! 

And leads to destruction at last." 



That sermon I'll never forget it, 

He waked up my near neighbor V , 
And whipped the dust out of the jackets 

Of close-fisted X., Y. and Z. 
In conclusion he said "don't be angry, 

Because I've been preaching so plain.'' 
We each gave the sermon away, 

And asked him to call 'round again. 



FAEMEE DOBBS. 

Farmer Dobbs,who always complains of tlie weather, 
Said, that taking the season together, 
Especially since the first of July, 
It surely had been altogAher too dry. 

A famine was sure, so farmer Dobbs said, 
Each mother's son must go begging for bread. 
From morning till night he would worry and fret, 
Grumble, and sigh "not a drop of rain yet." 

While farmer Dobbs slept and dreamed of his grain 
Nearly spoiled by the drouth, down came the rain, 
Dobbs' prayers were answered,he awoke,looked about 
"My soul ! how it r.^ins; 'twill drown us all out !" 

Unhappy man, not content with the weather — 
Altogether too dry, or too Avet, altogether. 
One thing is certain, some men will complain. 
Whether too much or too little rain. 



CENTENNIAL. 
• 

Centennial bells are ringing 

S^.veet tones of liberty ! 
Thousands of voices singing, 

"A nation blest and free." 
On the breezes lloat our banners, 

Over land and over sea, 
We sing in loud hosannas 
• Our nation's victory. 

Each lover of our country 

Joins in the glad acclaim; 
Sing of our nation's glory, 

Smg of our nation's fame. 
Sing of her v.-ealth and beautj''. 

Sing of her strength and power^ 
Pledged to support our "goddess 

Liberty" evermore. 

Sing of her institutions, 

Her schools and churches free, 
Her telegl-aphs and railroads, 

Keaching from sea to sea; 



BILLY DASH POEMS. 93 

Maeliine shops, manufactories,. 

In tlie east and in tlie west, 
Her rivers, mountains, valleys, 

Tlie richest and the best. 



Her mines as yet unfathomed, 

So rich in golden ore; 
Her vineyards and her orange groves 

Which skirt her southern shore; 
Her broad and ifertile prairies, 

Laden with golden grain — 
Join in the mighty chorus, 

Loud sound the glad refrain. 

Centennial bells are ringing- 
Sweet tones of liberty ! 

Thousands of voices singing, 
"A nation blest and free." 

On the breezes float our banners, 
Over lanl and over sea. 

We sing in loud hosannas 
Our natioii's viccorv. 



THE PUZZLED VOTEE. 



It puzzles my head completely, 

I hardly know what to say, 
I read both sides of politics. 

Two papers every day. 
And the more I read my pajDers, 

The less I know what to do; 
How shall I vote is the question, 

I hardly know how, do you? 

It puzzles my head completely, 

Again and again I have tried 
To believe all men are honest. 

That no j^oliticians have lied. 
I m not a very apt scholar. 

My mind is very obtuse; 
I cannot see how, for the dollar 

Men can give so much abuse. 

A. is a very fine fellow, 
B. is Just no man at all; 

That is what one paper tells me; 
The other reverses the whole.— 



BILLY DASH POEMS. 95 

A. has been cauglit stealing chickens, 

B. is a saint every day; 
Please tell me how in the dickens 

A man can vote right either way. 

It puzzles my head completely, 

Beats all I ever did see; 
One paper says, "vote Mr. A.," 

The other says, "vote Mr. B." 
Each party offers an "office," 

They're anxious the fair thing to do; 
And that makes the thing more perplexing — 

I wish I knew "which" — don't you? 

I'll take my slate and my pencil, 

And cipher the whole thing out. 
Whew ! the more I add and subtract. 

The more my mind is in doubt; 
Politicians have got things mixed, 

Beats all how the fellows do act — 
I'd like that office but don't know how 

To get it, tliat is a fact. <ii 



THE DEUNKARD'S REFORM. 

At tlie village inn a father sits, 

A father in name at least; 
Strong drink lias blasted his brightest hopes 

And sunk him beneath the beast. 

At home no food, on tJie hearth no lire, 
How dark the deep'ning gloom, 

A mother and child sit there alone, 
In their cold and cheerless room. 



She sighs, as she thinks of Ihe days gone b}^, 
Er > rnin was wrought by rum, 

And prays that God will give them back 
The old loved cottage home. 



Tlie lone wife's prayer in heaven is heard, 

God heeds the mother's sigli; 
Tlie drunkard's heart once more is moved. 

The tear now dims his eye. 



BILLY DASH I OEMS. 97 

He leaves the liaunt of sin and vice, 

He bends his steps toward home, 
While thoughts of happy daj^s gone by 

Swift to his memory come. 

A step : " 'Tis he — God help us now !" 

A knock at the attic door : 
"God heard your prayer, and by His help 

I'll be a man once more." 

Though great the effort he must make 

To break the tempter's chain ; 
Seeking by prayer for grace and strength. 

No one shall tr}^ in vain. 

Years pass : That family group again, 

Saved from the power of rum, 
Are gathered around their fireside 

In their old loved cottaa;e home. 



CASTLES IN THE AIR. 

See tliafc mansion quickly rising, 

Stately look, proportion fair ; 
But, alas ! there's no foundation — 

'Tis a castle in the air. 
Small ones build them in their childhood, 

Youth who picture life so' fair : 
Soon the future shows them plainly 

They are castles in the air. 

I knew a jn'oud and queenly maiden, 

Pearly teeth; complexion fair, 
Haughty spirit, independent. 

She built castles in the air. 
When fihe married she would show them 

She'd not stoop to common fare. 
At thirty-five, she still is single ! 

'Twas a castle in the n'n\ 

See that fop, v/ith moustache twisted, 
Shallow brain, but glossy hair ; 

Thei'e lie stands before his mirror, 
Buildiivjf castles in the air. 



THLLY DASH TOEMS. 99 

He can marry any lady ! 

Glad they'd be his lot to share ! 
When he asked her, she said, " No, sir !" 

'Twas a castle in the air. 



Ambitious man is always building, 

Glory, honor, fame so fair. 
See the bubbles break ; behold them ! 

Naught but castles in the air. 
Disappointment, grief and sorrow, 

Every one must take his share. 
'Twill be less, if- we stop building, 

Buildinu' castles in the air. 



THE DUTCHMAN'S DREAM. 

I shumps inclo ped afder eading mince pie, 

Und drinking some goot lager peer, 
Und treams sooch a tream as you nefer did see, 

Und see dings you nefer did hear. 
I treams I vas riding my gray golt to town, 

I dinks dot he nefer vas proke ; 
He kicks up pehind, sphilts me off in der mud. 

Now, dot vas n't mooch of a shoke. 

Der golt ganters home at der top of his spheed, 

I voUow him, sick of mine life ; 
So softly I greeps to der grack in der door, 

Dinks I, "who vas sparking mine vife ?" 
"Py cracious ! py cracious !" vas all I could say. 

As I beaked through der grack in der door : 
Dere sat Yawcob Schunster,mit his hand in hers ! 

I nefer seen sooch dings before. 

Again, bretty soon, I vas dop of der hill ; 

Der rifer vas running pelow. 
I dinks I vas going to dakes mine own life, 

So I shumps in der vasser und shnow. 



BILLY DASH POEx^IS. 101 

I vakes myself up,schwiming all 'round cler room, 

Der ped-clothes all ofer der floor. 
Dot mince pie iind lager vas pad stuff to dake, 

Der ped-clothes vas very moocli tore. 

So I eads no more peer, uud trinks no more pie, 

. Since der night dot I had sooch a treams ; 
I don't rode no more golts,nor dakes mine own life 

Py shumping no more indo shtreams. 
I sleep slioost so sweet as der sap in der dree, 

Der ped-clothes don't get no more tore ; 
I vakes up in ped mit my stomach all straight^ 

Instead of vakes up on der vloor. 






1 



tjf 



MISS BIBBINS' VISIT. 

M]"s. Jones, I've come for a visit. 

Oil, dear me ! 'tis such a hot day. 
Father could not spare the team, 

I've walked every step of the way. 
Oh, say, have you heard the last news ? 

Now who in the world would have thought 
That old John Thomas, the merchant, 

B}^ that silly young thing should be caught. 

For years he has been an old Bach, 

"His bread and cheese on the shelf ;" 
Folks called him a pretty good catch. 

(About the same age as myself.) 
Now, Mrs. Jones, when I marry. 

Ha ! ha ! isn't the thought funny ? 
"Twill be for pure love, I can tell you; 

I never will marry for money. 

They say that Bob Temple has failed. 

Say, wasn't I lucky, for once ? 
For years he kept coming, sparking. 

But never proposed, the great dunce ! 



BUJ.Y DASH POEMS. 103 

BoT) needn't mention the subject. 

I don't mean the man any harm ; 
But he won't catch pretty Nell Bibbins, 

I always have fancied a farm. 



Did you hear that miserable scandal '? 

Somebody's been telling a lie. 
They said that she said that I said '* 

That Tommy'Drake's wife ought to die. 
Mrs. Jones, you know I don't tattle 

Like some folks, so full of their clack. 
Why don't folks -say to your face 

The'same things they say to your back. 

What do you think of the fashions'? 

Oh, my ! so precise and refined ! 
It's nothing but ruflQe and tuck, 

And then pin 'em tight back Ijehind. 
My soul ! I am so disgusted. 

Oh, say, it a'most slipped my mind — 
Don't tell it to "Lize — let me whisper : 

"My beau and I soon will be joined." 

I declare ! who'd a thought 'twas so late. 

How swift the time flies away ! 
I should have come earlier, I know, 

There's so mucli I Avanted to say. 



1C4 



BILLY DASH POEMS. 



"Our tea is ready, Miss Bibbins." 
Oh, certainly; I'll stay for that. 

Next time 111 try to come earlier, 
And then we can have a good chat. 




I'M SUCH A SLEEPY MAN. 

Kind friends, if you will listen; 

I'll sing a little song ; 
But I'm so very sleepy, 

It wont be very long. 
I'll tell you liow things happen 

As nearly as I can ; 
I'll do it in short metre, 

I'm such a sleepy man. 

One night I went out sparking, 

Intending to stay late, 
I thought I'd take a little nap. 

And then I'd call on Kate. 
I lay down by the road-side, 

The morning dawned again, 
And Kate was disappointed ; 

I'm such a sleepy man. 

Kate said we would get married 

If I could keep awake. 
I said, "dear Kate, I'll try it ; 

Get up the wedding cake." 



110 



BILLY DASH POEJIS. 



I then took my seat and called for the price 
At which they bought tea, sugar, cod fish aud rice 
We dou't reveal secrets, our price list is lost, 
But I will tell you this, it is much below cost. 

And now I'm as happy as mortal can be, 
I live upon frosting, and use the best tea ; 
But since 'nitiation, I called for a vote 
To cut down the feed of that villainous goat. 




THE GEANGEES LAMENT. 

I tell you I re2;ret it, 

For sure as I am born, 
I really wiali I hadn't joined 

The gents that hoe the corn, 
That plow and tend the dairj^ 

And all that sort of thing, 
I'm reall}' very sorry that 

I rode around the ring. 

I've not done a 'stitch' of work, 

Since the night I took that ride, 
I fear I nevex* shall again, 

Such pains are in my side; 
The doctor calls it rheumatism. 

Pegg says if she could vote, 
She'd say that I was injured 

Eiding the grangers' go%t. 

Twas destruction to my trowsers, 

And Peggy told me so, 
The moment I returned that night 

From 'nitiation show; 



108 BILLY DASH POEMS. 

"With hand on my pulse — 'twas all I could stand , 
To let in the goat he now gave command. 
He 'advanced in the rear ;' I shall never forget 
My peculiar emotions when 'goat' and I met. 



'Twas delight unalloyed to be kicked on the shins, 
To be poked in the ribs,to be tortured with pins, 
To be pulled at the nose, to be seized at the throat, 
When compared with the 'butt' of that villainous goat. 



This duty performed, goat wheeled into line ; 
To do some performing was now duty of mine. 
And nest I was ordered to mount on his back. 
Hold on to his horns and ride round the track. 



Being blinded, in taking my seat on the ' baste,' 
And anxious to pass 'nitiation in haste. 
When feeling for horns, too late I discover 
The goat's face is one way and mine the other. 



At a gait I should say between trot and canter, 
I rode 'round the ring and into the center; 
Should have fallen quite off, there's no doubt in 

my mind, 
H id I not hung for life to the short horn behind. 



BILLY DASH POEMS. 109 

Mr. Dodge then addressed me: "Since we have 

your cash, 
I'll give you the grip, my sweet Billy Dash," 
And with thumb and linger each side of my nose, 
Proceeded to give it while each one arose— 



And sung, " Brother Dash, we welcome yon here. 
You're now a trua granger, you need have no fear 
Of middle-men, sharpers or high railroad fare^ 
By the grip we will conquer, this our ' j)assword 
and prayer." ' 



Then smiling, each granger in turn took my hand, 
" Brother Dash, we've been there, O, say, wasn't it 

grand, 
Don't look so down hearted," their language I quote, 
" You're appearance was splendid when riding the 

goat. 



I controlled well my feelings but the ache of my 

shins 
Made deeper impressions by far than their grins — 
If all else I forget, I'll remember one thing, 
'Tis the butt of that goat when he entered the ring. 



10(3 



BIIXY DASH POEBIS. 



Yv"e sent oif for the parson ; 

I \Yent to sleep again, 
Biit Kate says Ave were married- 

I'm such a sleepy man. 

My v.'ife gets up at sunrise, 

Goes out and milks the cow ; 
She says she'd rather do it 

Than have a family row. 
I think I wont disturb her ; 

I rather like her plan ; 
I always like my moniing nap, 

I'm such a sle,:^py mm. 










i=w.i«.v^£t*&-~-: >*<.'' 



THE GRANGER'S EXPERIENCE. 



Invitad to join them, I wont to ths lo.l;^-3, 

To be taught by the grangers the true " grangers' 

dodge." 
Quite highly elated to think thcit Bill Dash 
Could unite with the grangers by paying the cash. 

At the door I was met by old Sammy Smash, 
Who pleasantly said "we've caught you Bill Dash." 
He blinded my eyes and pinned down each ear. 
Lest their forms I should see and their voices hear. 



Next I was ordered to enter the lodge, 

I j)eaked out a little and saw Mr. Dodge, 

In the center he sat with gavel in hand, 

With legions around him to obey his command. 

As the gavel came down with a very loud whack, 
I was struck twenty blov.'s at once on my back; 
One lady pulled hair — a man kicked my shins, 
Mr. Dodge said to me, " 'nitiation begins." 



112 BILLY DASH POEMS. 

Slie said, " I've got to patch and patsh 
To fix you up, Bill Dash, 

Your pants are ripped,your coat is torn 
Nice way to spend your cash. 



There are the best of reasons 

Why I have changed my mind, 
With regard to happy grangers 

To tell them I'm inclined; 
There is no peace with Peggy, 

She's death on them and me, 
Since the night of 'nitiation 

She's as cross as she can be. 

Brother grangers all advise me. 

Give the grip to Peggy's nose ; 
You know "by that we conquer," 

Though it sometimes leads to blows. 
I tried it at the depot. 

When they asked the usual fare; 
The agent blacked an eye for me. 

It didn't conquer there. 

I went to Grangers store in town, 

And winked at Mr. 'Hodge. 
He said he'd put molasses down 

Because I knew the dodge. 



BII.LY DASH POEMS. 11,^ 

I Kill J to llim, "fill U]i tll6 jug, 

I want the very best." 
At other stores, without the 'wink,' 

The price whs sixpence less. 

And so it goes, and so it goes, 

Humbug to get your cash ; 
But riding goats and humbugs too 

Are 'played' with Billy Dash. 
I think at the next meeting 

I'll say to Mr. Dodge, 
If there are no objections, 

Bill Dash Avill leave the lodge. 



DARE TO SAY NO. 

How easy to yield to temptation and sin, 
To answer men 'yes,' their favor to win. 
Not so easy for us 'gainst the current to row, 
To breast the rough billow with plain simple no. 

Though men with the demons of Hell should 

combine, 
And tempt you to drink of the ruby-red wine, 
Remember, 'tis every man's deadliest foe ; 
Be true to your manhood, and dare to say no. 

When asked for your vote to license this sin, 
To open the flood-gates of rum, beer and gin, 
And send forth a river of death and of woe. 
Meet the bold tempter with an emphatic no ! 

Would you shun the broad road of vice and of 

crime ? 
Yield not to temptation — say 'no' every time. 
The Lord hath declared we shall reap as we sow; 
Then fear to say yes, when you ought to say no. 

Remember when tempted to turn from the right. 
"Get thee behind me" puts Satan to flight. 
Let this be your motto, where ever you go : 
"I'll never say yes, when I ought to say no." 



A YANKEE TRICK. 



At tlie dining room on Eailroad street 
A 'Teuton' took a place to eat. 
He read the bill and then called out, 
"Vaiter, I dakes some sauerkraut." 



Tlie kraut was brought, the German said, 
"Dot makes me dinks mine friendts pe dead. 
Forgot dot fact some dimes to come. 
Dot sauerkraut dakes me pack home." 



He ate and said, "ven Shake und me 

Vas poys togeder, don't you see ; 

Mine grief ! dem thoughts shust prings der tear- 

I'm demp'rance ; I don't vants dot peer. 



"Ven me und Shake vas poys, he said, 
Und moder ducks us in der ped, 



116 EIIxLY RASH POEMS. 

(His plate was empty) "Sliake fell out- 
Vaiter, prinj^s iis some sauerkraut." 



Anotlier plate is quickly brought ; 
It starts a different train of tliouu;lit : 
''Dots goot, dots goot ; dot glialls to mind 
Der days dot liaf left me pehind. 



I dinks again of sister Nance, 
Uud slioins her in der German dance 
Vaiter, der drain don't yet goes out ;. 
I dinks I'll have some sauerkraut. 



Another plate ! the vv'^^ifovs Kmilo, 
But Hans keeps eating : 11 the while. 
The whistle hlows, tlie train starts out. 
And Hans stops eating sancrln-aui. 



The waiter now demands his pay. 
But Haiis replies, "Some oder day- 
111 gatch dot drain, I haf no doubt- 
Oan't shtop to pay for sauerkraut. 



BU.LY DAHH POE.^IH. 

On board the traiu I liaarJ Hans say, 
"I sha'n't gomes round some oder day'; 
Deyll find me slrast no vare about — 
Dot's yankee dricks mit sauerkraut.'' 



117 




JENNIE COME IN. 



I went home with my sweetheai-t. 
One evening qnite late; 

"We quietly stood at 

The old farm-house gate. 



All at once we were startled. 
What could it have been? 

The old lady called out, 
" Jennie come in." 



I was just going to tell her, 
" I love you, my dear ; 

She knew what was coming. 
And waited to hear. 



The old lady, impatient. 
Then called out again : 

" Do you hear me, Jennie ? 
I tell you, come in !" 



BILLY DASH POEMS. 119 

But Jennie was anxious " 

To tell me my fate, 
And so we kept chatting 

Away at the gate. 



The old lady came out ; 

She said ''twas a sin.' 
O, my ! how she scolded, 

And 'Jennie come in.' 



I respectfully listened 
To all that she said, 

But wished all the while 
She was back in her bed; 



With the strings of her ' bonnet,' 
So tight 'neath her chin 

That she couldn't call out, 
"Jennie come in." 



BEN EAT PI THE OLD ELMS. 

1 rdt alone to-ui^-ht, sweet Nell, 

Wliere we sat long ago ; 
TJie sfcars sliiue l)]"igiit as tliey did tlieii, 

The zepluTH imiraiur low. 
The night bird's song, the babbling brook, 

And evening's passing breeze, 
Bring back the happy hours we've spent 

Beneath these old elm trees. 

I sec again tliy lovely face, 

Thv noble, queenly brow ; 
1 liMv again thy gentle v<nee, 

in a. 'cents soft and low. 
Tho ru.-itling leaves, so gently stirred 

By evoning's passing ])reeze, 
Eri]igs i);nk the liappj- hours v/e'vo spent 

Beneath these old elm trees. 

<) liow I long for tiiy eml>riice, 

Thy fond and loving kiss, 
Thy sym')athizhig tone and word,* 

Thv tdieev'na' sniile I miss. 



BILLY DASH POEMS. 121 

But often in this blest retreat, 

Upon mj bended knees, 
I call to mind the hours we've spent 

Beneath these old elm trees. 



I sit alone to-night, dear Nell, 

Where we sat long aso; 
The stars shine bright as they did then. 

The zephyrs murmur low. 
The angel spirit ever near, 

By faith my spirit sees; 
Again we hold communion sweet. 

Beneath the old elm trees. 



GO TO THE FAIR 

I was thinking a thought, 

I'll put it in rhyme, 
You know it is getting 

Quite close to fair time. 
Of hard work all summer 

We've each had our share, 
"We'll get our things ready, 

And go to the fair. 

Of course we are certain 

To get the first prize 
On our span of bay mares. 

Miss " Nance" and " Elize;" 
Our best blooded cattle 

Will also be there. 
I tell you we're going 

To go to the fair. 

Our pumpkins and carrots 

Are yellow as gold, 
They're fully developed, 

And fair to behold; 



BILLY DASH POEMS. 123 

Our 'tatoes and squashes, 

Them's what I call rare,, 
You'll see them I reckon^ 

If you're at the fair. 



We want to go somewhere 

'Bout "once in a while ;" 
All work and no play 

Will the best of us spoil. 
So "pull down your jacket," 

Hitch up the old mare. 
And take all the children 

And go to the Fair. 



DAINTY NUMBER THEEE. 

A lady called at Jones' store 

To buy a pair of shoes; 
He offered lier a number seven, 

They didn't meet her views. 
Although a seven would fit her foot. 

She said, "I can not see 
How I can wear a larger size 

Than dainty number three. 

A witty man is merchant Jones, 

He's 'sharp' as you will see ; 
He thought, "I'll throw a seven down 

And call it number three." 
The style examined, she remarked, 

•'I wear a dainty boot, 
And I am certain, Mr. Jones, 

That 'three' will fit my foot." 

She tried them on and sure enough 

A three was just a fit; 
" You see," said she, " my foot is small, 

A three don't pinch a bit; 



BILLY DASH POEMS. 125 

I tliougbt I'd find tliem at your store. 

You're stock is always full, 
Tlie other stores were out threes^ 

I've called upon tliem all," 

Slie paid the price,quite pleased to think 

That Jones, "the fool," she said, 
" Should think I wear a number three. 

What ails the merchant's head ?" 
And when Jones told me of the thins. 

He said, " I have a doubt 
About her sanity," Said he, 

" Her head's a little out." 

Now, ladies, if you wish a 'three,' 

Just call at Jones' store ; 
His stock is full — the latest styles, — 

All numbers three and four. 
You need not call for number seven, 

For Jones will quickly see 
The size that fits your little foot 

Is dainty number three. 




DUNS. 

I don't like to be dunned, I wilHell you. 

I am met by a man in the street, 
And he asks me, you know, politely, 

If his very small bill I can meet. 
He is sorry he has to request me 

To pay him this bill, but it's small; 
I think if he really was sorry 

He would not have asked me at all. 

I was marching down Broadway last week, 

Finely dressed in a new suit of clothes ; 
The tailor who made them espied me. 

And thrust his bill under my nose. 
I tell you he didn't look smiling, 

You'd surely have thought him a brute; 
Said, " I'm sorry I have to request you 

To pay me for making that suit." 



Displeased with this Broadway encounter, 

I turned into Dickinson street ; 
But believe me, the first man I met t 

Was th3 man of whom Kate bought meat ; 



BILLY DASH POEMS. 126 

T\^ith a bill iu bis hand, lie was watching 
To catch me when passing that way ; 

He was sorry he had to request me, 
But I surely must pay that day. 

I dodged to a lane near at hand. 

And entered my house at the rear, 
Excited, each footstep now sounded 

Like a creditor's dun iu my ear. 
The tailor, the butcher, the cobbler. 

Had each of them dunned me that day ; 
Each man I had patronized lately. 

Had politely requested his pay. 

Now what good can come of this dunning 

A man of refined taste like me ? 
Please tell me just where the point is, 

I'm really not able to see. 
I'm thinking that one dun from a creditor 

To a debtor who never does pa}-, 
Should satisfy every hard feeling. 

As well as to dun every day. 

I am sorry the world is so bad, 
I believe they delight in such fun, 

I fear it will drive me mad — 
I prefer a good joke to a dun. 



128 



BILLY DASH POEMS. 



To be met in tlie street witli a friend, 
Tlie wind taken out of my sail; 

If I'm to be dunned in tlie future, 
I hope it may be through the mail. 




W^^CZZ" 



LITTLE NELLIE AND THE ANGELS 

Dear ma'ma has gone to her home in the sky, 

She died broken-hearted, they say, 
And left me, her poor little Nellie, with pa, 

He leaves me alone all the day. 
Quite early this morning he went for his dram; 

Oh, why do men sell my pa rum ? 
I'm hungry and cold ; when will he come back ? 

O why don't my papa come home ? 

I hear happy children at play in the street, 

Not one hath a sorrow to tell ; 
They've fond loving parents, they've each happy 
homes, 

While here in the attic we dwell. 
They've soft downy beds, they have plenty to eat; 

I'm starving ! My pa drinks rum ; 
I'm hungry and cold, when will he come back, 

O why don't my papa come home ? 

I dreamed in the night that the angels came down 
From dear mama's home in the sky 

To carry me up to her dear loving arms, 
Where none ever hunger or die. 



130 BILLY DASH POEMS. 

I thought that my papa had left me alone, 

I said to the angels, I'll go ; 
But won't you please wait till my pa comes home 

I know that he'll want to go too. 

'Tis midnight. The father returns to his home ; 

His look, oh how haggard and wild. 
lie speaks with an oath, for he's maddened with 
rum. 

And fearfully curses his child. 
But long ere he came the bright angels of God 

On golden-hued pinions had come, 
And bore her away to dear mother's arms. 

Away to her heavenly home. 



IN SEARCH OF A HIRED GIRL. 



I started out tlie other day, 

In search of a hired girl, 
I gave my hair an extra brush. 

Moustache an extra twirl; 
I met a healthy looking lass, 

I think her name was Carrie; 
I asked her if she'd work for us. 

She said, " I'd rather marry." 

I next called at a cottage. 

Some distance from the city. 
Where lived three sisters, each of whom 

Was charming, pretty, witty; 
But when I told them why I called. 

They said, " you needn't tarry, 
You couldn't hire one of us, 

We each prefer to marry. 

I drove out to grass widow B's, 

I said, I'll surely get her ; 
But when I made my errand known. 

It didn't seem to hit her. 



132 BILLY DASH POEMS. 

She said, "I got five hundred, cash, 
By leaving old John Barry. 

What ! I work out ! you fool, Bill Dash, 
Tm fixing now to marry." 

I said, "If girls and widows wont, 

Why then, old maids I'll hire; 
I'll search the town from end to end. 

They've roused Bill Dash's ire." 
So on I went, and next I called 

To see Miss Fannie Larrie; 
She answered me, "I can't go. Bill ; 

'Spect every day to marry.'' 

I thought perhaps my fijae moustache 

Attracted their attention; 
Or else each one had just returned 

From a woman's rights convention. 
Discouraged, quite, I turned about. 

Feeling like the " old Harry,'' 
To think no girl would work for us. 

But all would quickly marry. 



THE FAEMEE AND COW. 



I saw an old farmer 

Milking a cow, 
Brindle was somewhat 

Inclined to a row. 
Strip — strip — strip, 

He was milking away. 
But soon lie discovered 

There was something to pay. 

He was thinking 'bout prices 

Of butter and cheese, 
As he quietly sat with 

Pail 'tween his knees. 
Stripping away with 

His thumb and fingers, 
Just a little too long 

The old farmer lingers. 

" So-o-o prindal, sthand still ! 

Vats der matter ? So poss ! 
(I really pelieve she could 

Kick like a hoss, 



184 BILLY DASH POEMS. 

But bootlier is liigli, 

I must get cler last drop,) 

Sthancl still ! you old varmin*:, 
I told you to stliop." 

But brindle, impatient, 

I could see by her eye. 
Picked up her foot. 

And let the thing fly. 
With hand on his stomach, 

He leaned 'gainst the wall, 
.His butter and cheese 

Had taken a falL 



His wife, Mary Jane, 

Upon hearing the clatter, 
Ran out to the barn 

To see what was the matter. 
" Did she kilt you, mine dear?' 

" Py cracious ! m'ne frow, 
I vish neighbor Jones 

Would boiLQjht dot old co.w» ' 



I WISH I WAS AN EDITOE. 

I wish I was an Editor, 

'Twoiild be so nice and grand, 
With an ink spot on each eyebrow. 

And scissors in my hand ; 
I k low I should be happy, 

Clipping out the news, 
In writing up your politics ; 

I agree with all your views. 

If I should be approached 

Next morning after print 
By some important gentleman, 

Who thought that he was meant 
By my cutting editorial, 

And to fight me he proj)osed, 
I'd remind him that 'twas letters 

That I fought with — not with blows ! 

Of course I'd get free tickets 

To go to all the shows, 
I reckon that's the reason 

The Editor alwaysl goes. 



LoG BILLY DASH POEMS. 

I've noticed at the office, 

When I shelled out my 'tin' — 

A 'quarter' for a ticket, — 
They 'passed' the Editor in. 

And when I went to Congress, 

(You know, of course, I would ; 
For my politics would suit you — 

I'd make them if I could ;) 
I would never sell my vote 

For a small amount of cash ; 
They would have to bid up high 

If they bought up Billy Dash. 



BETSY ANN, HOW IS YOUH 
MOTHEFv? 

You see very plain I'm a basliful young man, 

Biit once I went seeking a wife; 
I called on a lady tliey called Betsy Ann, 

To see if slie'd share my lone life. 
I knocked at tlie door, I tliouglit I should di,^ 

My feelings I scarcely could smother; 
And 'all I could say as I looked in her eye^ 

AVas, "Betsy Ann, how is your mother? ' 

She gave me a seat, and also a smile; 
« I blushed just as red as a pink. 
My heart it kept thumping, it thumped all 
while; 
Believe me, I hardly could think. 
I V,- anted to do the thing up in fine style, 

So I hitched up my chair like a lover. 
I said with an effort at making a smile, 
"Oh, Betsy Ann, how is your mother?" 

I said to myself, "If that doesn't beat all ! 

I think tiiat remark out of place." 
I leaned myself back in my chair 'gainst the 

And gazed on her beautiful face; 



138 BILLY DASH POEMS" 

But quick as a flash I was cloAvn on the floor, 
The chair slipped and spilt me all OA^er; 

The last thing I said as I sprang to the door 
"Was, "Betsy Ann, how is your mother?" 



Sometimes in my dreams I behold her fair face; 

I'm sitting beside her once more; 
I dream of the time, and I dream of the place. 

Where I got such a bump on the floor; 
And after a while I begin to awake, 

And slowly I turn myself over; 
The last thing I say as I finish my dream 

Is, "Betsj^ Ann, how is your mother ?" 



PUTTING ON AIES. 

'Tis strange wliat* notions some folks liave. 

How liigli tliey liold tlieir lieacls, 
With beaver liat and polislied boots, 

They make a miglity spread. 
You'd think them worth ten thonsand,cash, 

Of stocks, a thousand shares; 
Oh, what a swell some people cut 

When putting on the airs,, 

I met one at the barber shop, 

His pockets full of cash. 
Spring-bottom pants, a 'long tail' coat,, 

A number one moustache. 
Sad to relate, this city swell 

While coming down the stairs. 
Slipped and went down — it hurt him some, 

When putting on the airs. 

A lady, proud as a Lucifer, 

Was sweeping down BroadAvay; 
Her trail was coming on behind, 
A block or two away. 



ilO BILLY DASH TOEMS. 

A ragged boy hops on to ride, 
While every body stares, 

He sings out, "Golly ! let "em slide, 
I'm putting on the airs." 



Now, boys and girls, just stop and think, 

Heed what I'm going to say: 
Eemember, putting on the airs 

Will never, never pay I 
We've often seen the dand}' try, 

At Lectures, Church and Fairs, 
T-> make the people think he"d brains, 

By putting on the airs. 



OUE PREACHEE. 

We wrote for a preacher — we've got him; 

He came liere hist month, I believe. 
A bachelor, just about thirty; 

Perhaps, though, his looks may deceive. 
He's as spruce and as neat as a wax man. 

His voice is as clear as a bell, 
He sings and he preaches just splendid, 

He rounds all his periods well. 

The ladies — those of them unmarried — 

Are carried away with his style: 
He's just as polite as man can be, 

And smiles such an angelic smile. 
Their hearts are most deeply affected 

Whenever he preaches or prays; 
They're all of them reckoning their chancs; 

To listen the rest of their days. 

O, my ! Miss Gossip just whispered, 
At the Post Office Saturdaj^ night, 

He was seen to receive a love letter. 
Inclosed in envelope snow white; 



142 BILLY DASn POEMS. 

'Twas addressed in a lady's liand writiiv^:, 
'Twas seen by a dozen or more, 

Tliey all saw tlie blusli on Lis face, 
As lie passed out tlie Post Office door. 

Onr daughter, sweet Betsey Matilda, 

Tlie first treble singer, you know; 
Sa}' s, " I think I'll leave the choir, 

If that should turn out to be so; 
If I was a man and a preacher, 

I never would wear a false face; 
And I think, to speak very plainly. 

That he needs a little more grace." 

And pretty Pearl Pickle comes rramingv 

Her face just as red as a beet, 
She says, " I was down at the depot,, 

At the corner of Dominick street. 
And what do you think, — My ! our preach j^r 

I don't wish the man any lial'm. 
Took a " bus" with, a bridal-robed lady, 

Clinp;ing quite close to his arm." 

I declare — the 'bus has stopped here. 
Now who can be coming to-day; 

As sure as I live 'tis our preacher. 
And lady, oh, don't she look gay; 



BILLY DASH POEMS. 



14:; 



He rings, we invite tliem to enter, 

(O, wouldn't I like to have kissed li^r,) 

He bows witli a mischievous smile, 
And tlien introduces liis — sister. 




* T H E OS WE G O GHOST. 

IVliile walking out the other day 
George Fikes appeared upon Broadway, 
And said, "Now, Bill, I'm glad to meet 
A Avell known friend upon the street; 
To tell the truth, now, Mr. Dash, 
I am most aAvful short for (;ash. 
Now, Bill, t]]is is 'twixt you and me; 
Say, can't you lend me a 'Y?' 



Said 1, "Old friend, my Georgie, dear, 
'Tis strange, to borrow you appear; 
For if you are a spirit true, 
I am quite certain you foreknew 
That times were hai'd and prices low; 
Tliat 'V's' and 'X's' do not grow; 
That everything had gonv- to smash; 
That everybody's out of cash. 



He heaved a few despairing sighs, 
And with his coat-sleeve wiped his eyes; 
He trembled like an aspen leaf. 
Said he, "Eriend Dash, I will be brief : 



BILLY DASH POEMS- 14") 

If yon can't lend ;i friend a 'V.' 
I i>ray you, show some sympatliy, 
Since we have met upon the street, 
Come 'round the corner, Bill, and trea!^:" 

George Fikes took down an awful nip; 
Said, as with sleeve he wiped his lip, 
"Old 'oman'l scold — ke-e-e ! let 'em ri}) I 
Bill, for the drinks now let us flip," 
I said, "Now if that isn't a sight I 
A Spirit flip ! Cxeorge, that isn't right." 
Said he, "I'm here to give 'em warnin', 
Bill, (hie [) we Avont go home till mornin\"' 

I said, "Old Fikes, I'll take my pen 
And sh(3w you up to mortal men. 
I'm satisfied 3'ou are a 'beat.' 
A Spirit talk 'bout 'flips' and 'treat!' . 
Fikes, I have heard of you before: 
Beporter 'chucked' you through the floor. 
You'd better 'git' — he showed some fight, 
Then quickly vanished out of sight. 

* The reporter of one of the Oswego (N.Y.) papers represented that 
George Fikes, a British soldier, died in Oswego about one hundred j-ears^ 
ago, and had returned from the land of Spirits, and that he held frequent 
intercourse with him. At the close of e^eh interview he vanished out of 
sight through the floor. 



'THE FARMEE OUT OF DEBT. 



The farmer out of debt 

Must be a happy man. 
He ploughs and sows, he reaps and mows, 
At night enjoys such sweet repose; 
No anxious care disturbs his breast, 
Of every good he is possessed; 

Envy him not, who can. 



He rises with the dawn 
And views the landscape o'er; 
The beauties of creation sees. 
Inhales the healthful morning breeze, 
With thankful heart bows to his God, 
Confessing every good bestowed. 
What can he ask for more. 



Then let me till the soil 
To gain my daily bread; 

I'll envy not the city man 

Who rolls in wealth, and drives his span 



BILLY DASH POEMS' 



147 



Of dashing ba_ys along Broadway, 
But longs for country scenes each day, 
To rest his tired head. 



No happier man on earth, 
Nothing his soul to fret. 

If crops are short, of grain or hay. 

Enough for self, no bills to j^ay; 

Something to spare for suffering poor, 

No happier man — search the earth o'er- 
Than farmer out of debt. 




THEY ARE THINKING OF ME. 



I quietly sit in my cottage to-night, 

iMy tliought.s far away o'er the sea; 
Tm tliinking of friends in my own native land, 

I know they are thinking of me. 
Tis inj'.ny long 3-ears since I bade them adien, 

To dwell in the land of the free; 
Yet I know that their hearts are loving and true, 

1 know thev are thinkino- of me. 



I t!iiiik of the wood where the wild flowers bloom, 

WJiere oft in my cliildhood's glad hour 
l'v,e sat in its shade with school book in hand, 

"J'w.is nature's most beautiful bower. 
Tlio in?adow so green, the ])rook in the dell, 

The swing neath the old apple tree, 
T!u^ (i-jol shady lawn, the companions of youth, 

i kjiow they are thinking of me. 

The school ground, the church yard, that dear 
sacred spot. 
Fond mem'ry recalls them to view, 



BILLY DASH POEMS. 1^^ 

Where the s;id wQeping wiHow its low branches 
wave, 
Where flowers are hiden with dew. 
Wliere dearly loved friends now sleep tlieir last 
sleep, 
Far, far o'er the deep rolling sea; 
They dwell with the saved in the city of light; 
Yet I know they are thinking of me. 

My friends o'er the sea I shall never forget, 

My breast with emotions doth swell, 
The days of my childhood come fresh to my mind, 

Ah ! yes, I remember them well : 
My mother's last kiss, and the tears that she 
shed, 

As I left her to cross o'er the sea; 
My dear father's prayer to God for his child — 

I know thev are thinking of me. 



WE WILL SIGN THE PLEDGE 
AND KEEP IT. 

We will sign tlie pledge and keep it; 

We will sign the pledge to-night, 
To abstain from drinking whiskey,rum and gin; 

And we promise now and ever 

That we'll battle for the right, 
Till the temp'rance cause the victory s'lall win. 

Oh, the suffering ! oh, the sorrow 

Which is caused by drinking rum; 
Hear the widow and the orphan as they cry. 

God, in mercy stay the tide; 

Grant it may no farther come, 
Lest we famish, lest we perish, lest we die. 



From the office, from the work-shops. 

From the hill-tops, from the plain, 
Comes the mighty temp'rance army to the field; 

And we'll ne'er give up the contest 

Till the victory we gain — 
Rum shall learn that temp'rance men will never 
yield. 



BILLY DASH POEMS. 151 

Then vote down the whiskey traffic, 

And enforce the temp'rance laws. 
Wipe the falling tear from every eye. 

Lord, we pray Thee, save our loved ones; 

Bless, oh bless the temp'rance cause. 
We will sign the pledge and keep it till we die. 



Then unfu] 1 the temp'rance banner, 

Let the bugle loudly blow, 
We've enlisted for the war — we'll drink no more. 

We will labor and we'll pray. 

And we'll vote for temp'rance, too. 
Till King Alcohol is driven from our shore. 



PART SECOND 



THE BETTEE LAND. 

This side, on Jordan's bank I stand: 
Across the stream I view a land 
Whose verdant fiekls, whose fragrant flowers, 
Kefreshed by gently falling showers, 
Perfume the air; 



The distant hills of Paradise ^ 
In beauty clad before me rise; 
The heavenly city, too, I see; 
There, there my loved ones wait for me; 
Their joys to share. 



Its jasi3er walls its crystal stream, 
Its streets which shine with golden gleam. 
Its gates of pearl, city of light; 
How grand, how glorious the sight — 
Beauty most rare; 



No sultiy heat, no chilling blast, 

No gathering clouds their shadows cast, 



BILLY DASH POEMS. 



No night — but one eternal day; 
That land be mine. Lord, grant I may 
Dwell ever there. 



I long to cross the rolling flood, 
And join those loved ones, praising God; 
To sweep the harp, to tune the lyre, 
To vie with the angelic choir, 
To join their lay. 



To sing with all the hosts above 
The Saviour's never dying love; 
Upon the other side to stand, 
A palm of victory in my hand, 
In endless day. 



JESUS IS MINE. 

For many long years I wandered in sin 
I grieved the good Spirit again and again; 
But now I am saved by power divine, 
I feel I am his, and I know he is mine. 

To bring me to heaven His own life He gave, 
By faith I have found he is able to save 
And cleanse me from sin,from all dross refine; 
I feel I am His and I know He is mine. 

How wondrous His love; His grace,0 how free; 
How gentle and patient His dealings with me. 
'Twas precept on precejit, and line ujoon line, 
Until I was His, and I knew He was mine. 

The pleasures of sin I no longer love, 
I seek purer joys, which come from above; 
United to Christ as the branch to the vine, 
I feel I am His and I know He is mine. 

In serving the Lord I now take delight, 
And earnestly pray I may serve Him aright; 
Each duty discharge, and let my light shine, 
I feel I am His and I know He is mine. 



THE LITTLE ONES. 

Two little ones, wliose rosy lips 
Fond parents oft have pressed; 

Two little ones, side by side, 
We laid them down to rest. 

Two little ones death's icy hand 
Snatched from your fond embrace. 

Two little ones, how dear they were, 
But vacant is their place. 

Two little angels, hear their voice : 
"Dear parents, weep no more. 

Death's swelling billows we have passed; 
We've gained life's fairer shore. 

Your little ones hard by the throne, 

Now beckon you away. 
To join them in your world above, 

In realms of endless day. 



ALMOST PERSUADED. 

Almost persuaded; tlie Spirit is knocking 
At the door of thy heart. Arise, let him in. 

The multitude now to the Saviour are flocking; 
He's ready to pardon and save thee from sin. 

Almost persuaded; the Spirit is saying 

O, turn ye; O, turn ye; for why will ye die. 

Self on th3 altar of sacrifice laying, 
The fire of His love shall descend from on high. 

Almost persuaded— oh, why do you tarry; 

Why grieve the good Spirit; oh, why slight his 
love. 
Angels are waiting, the tidings to carry, 

Which fills hearts with gladness in heaven 
above. 

Almost persuaded; why not alt igether 

Persuaded to seek Him — to fseek Him to-day ? 

Salvation from sin can be found in no other; 
Come now to the Saviour; oh, come while you 
ma}'. 



HE WILL SAVE A TRUSTING 
CHILD. 



Far out from laud my little bark 
Is tossed upou tlie wave; 

No friendly star, the uiglit is dark, 
And yet the sea I brave. 

Loudly the raging billows roar, 

More furious the gale. 
By faith I see the distant shore, 

I unreef all my sail. 



Better the furious storm, by far, 
And fly before the gale. 

Than stranded on the sandy bar; 
Mj faith and hope should fail. 

For Christ I know will help me, 
Although the storm is wild; 

He'll bring me safely into port. 
He'll save a trusting child. 



BILLY DASH POEMS. Kll 

Although on raging billows tossed, 

By fearful tempests driven, 
No bark my pilot yet hath lost. 

He'll bring me safe to heaven. 



I round the point, all danger o'er, 
I've gained the port at last; 

Safely I stand on Canaan's shore. 
Life's stormy voyage past. 



My blest Redeemer helped me. 
Although the storm was wild. 

He brought me safely into port. 
He saved his trusting child. 



THE GOOD SAMAEITAN. 

A certain man among thieves fell, 
His name tlie Bible does not tell; 
They robbed him, so the Saviour said; 
Departed, leaving him half dead. 



By chance a priest passed down that way 
Half dead, the wounded sufferer lay. 
But, filled with an unholy pride, 
He passed by on the other side. 



A Levite hears his dying groan, 
He listens to his low sad moan, 
He looked on him, his help denied- 
And passed by on the other side. 



A good Samaritan draws near: 
A cry for help falls on his ear; 
Soon is the fainting sufferer found, 
Tenderl}' dressed, each bleeding w^tnmd. 



BILLY DASH POEMS. 163 

Know yp some soul, by grief oppressed, 
A heart by sorrow deep distressed ? 
Know ye a fainting brother man 
On whom the world has placed its ban ? 



Do not, like haughty priest, pass by, 
Nor like the Levite, look and sigh; 
But like the good Samaritan, 
Help thou thy suffering fellow man. 



I WANT TO DWELL WITH ANGELS. 



O, I want to dwell with angels 

In tlie land of heavenly day; 
With them to sing upon the golden shore, 

Where affliction's flowing tears 

From all eyes are wiped away, 
Where sorrow and sighing are no more. 

Though the world should frown upon me, 
Though the tempest loudly roar, 

Although the night seems very dark and long. 
If I'm faithful to the end 
I shall reach the golden shore, 

And join with the angels in their song. 

■\ 
I am thinking as I journey 
In the straight and narrow way. 

The path the saved ones all have trod. 
Of the blessings in reserve 
For the faithful ones who pray; 

They shall dwell with the angels,praising God. 



FAREWELL TO OUR PASTOR. 

Farewell, our dear pastor, 

We bid you adieu. 
Your prayers and your counsel. 

So faithful and true, 
We ns'er shall forget, 

Though from us you go 
AVhere the harvest awaits you— 

Where reapers are few. 

The hours we have spent 

In communion so sweet. 
As we've bowed before God 

At the blest mercy seat. 
Your labors of love 

By day and by night 
We shall ever remember 

With purest delight. 

Your faithful companion 

We shall not forget; 
We bid her farewell 

Witj deepest regret; 



L66 BILLY DASH FOEMS. 

But we know there are others 
Who your services need, 

Go tell them of Jesus, 
We bid you God speed. 

Yet we trust that while others 

Your labors may share, 
You will not forget us. 

Oh, remember in prayer 
Your brethren and sisters 

You're leaving behind. 
That in christian love, ever 

Our hearts may be joined. 

We hope, when the voyage 

Of life shall be o'er. 
To meet you and yours 

On the evergreen shore; 
With those who love Jesus 

Forever to dwell. 
Again, our dear pastor, 

We bid you farewell. 



FEAR NOT, LITTLE FLOCK. 

Fear not, little flock, said the Saviour, 

But ever prove faithful and true; 
Your Father has promised the kingdom. 

The kingdom of glory to you. 
Your Shepherd is loving and tender. 

He cares for the sheep of his fold, 
He seeks them, if ever they wander 

Away on the mountain so cold. 

He carries the lambs in his bosom. 

And shields them with tenderest care. 
Protects them in peril and danger, 

And saves them from every snare; 
He'll guard them in daylight and darkness, 

Beside the still waters will lead. 
And into green pastures will bring them. 

To plenty and richest of feed. 

Fear not, little flock, but be faithful, 

Be watchful, be prayerful and true; 
Stray not from your dear loving Shepherd, 

So tenderly caring for yon. 
Oh, heed not the voice of the stranger. 

Though tempted with pleasures untold; 
Be faithful, be faithful to Jesus 

Till safe in the heatenly fold. 



EYE HATH NOT SEEN. 

Eye liatli not seen the glory prepared 
For the faithful who follow the Lord; 

The riches and blessing by them to be shared 
In that land where the pleasures of life are 
ne'er marred 

B}- unholy act, or unlioly word; 

Where the songs of the angels are heard. 

We gaze upon scenes most lovely and rare, 
And think that e'en here we are blest; 

But earth's richest splendor can never compare 
With celestial glories,where the soft balmy air 

Is laden with perfume of flowers most rare. 
Where peace sweetly flows to each breast. 

How sweet it will be in our heavenly home 

Our dear Saviour's praises to sing: 
To dwell with the saved, and the pure, and the 
good, 
Where sorrow shall never, no, never intrude; 
Eedeemed by the Saviour, and cleansed by his 
blood. 
Forever to worship our King. 



BILLY DASH TOEMS. 

Eye hath not seen, no, never hath seen, 

Neither has human ear heard. 
Nor human heart ever conceived of the bliss 

In reserve in that worhl far, far above this, 
For those whom the Saviour confesses are His 

For the faithful who follow the Lord. 



169 



WE'LL MEET TO PART, NO, NEVER. 

We meet on earth to part again, 

All earthly ties must sever; 
But far above the starry worlds 

We'll meet to part, no, never. 

Our dearest hopes, our cherished plans. 

Lie blasted 'round us ever; 
But there's a land of jaurest bliss, 

'Tis just across the river. 

No heart shall sigh, no bosom heave, 

No trembling lip shall quiver. 
No soul redeemed through Jesus' blood 
I Shall know a sorrow ever. 

We meet on earth to part again. 

All earthly ties must sever; 
In heaven, O, what a blessed thought: 

We'll meet to part, no, never. 



HE SLEEPS IN THE GRAVE. 

He sleeps in the grave, 

No sorrow he knows; 
Life's toil is ended, 

How sweet his reposa. 
His pnlse has stopped beating, 

And ceased is his breath. 
In life's early manhood 

His eyes closed in death. 

Hq sleeps in the grave, 

At rest from all fears. 
How sad are onr hearts, 

Our eyes dimmed with tears. 
His voice in kind accents 

No longer we hear. 
No longer his footsteps 

Shall fall on onr ear. 

He sleeps in the grave, 

Disturb not his rest, 
His life was breathed out 

On the dear Saviour's breast; 



172 BILLY DASH POEMS. 

The trial is past, 

He is freed from all pain, 
He was Kving for Christ, 

Our loss is his eain. 



He is sleeping in Jesiis, 

How sweet is that sleep, 
From which no one ever 

Awakened to weep; 
To its mansion above, 

The spirit has gone, 
Where life is eternal^ 

Where death is unknown. 



BEAR THY CROSS. 



Bear thy cross a little longer, 
Pilgrim, faint not, trust in God, 

Day by day he'll make thee stronger, 
Give thee urace to bear tliv load. 



Are yon wear}', heavy laden, 

iVlmost crushed beneath life's woes, 

Jesus' arm is underneath thee, 
He will shield thee from thy foes. 

Onward then life's crosses bearing, 
Fearing not the world's dread frown; 

Those who trust and follow Jesus 
Soon shall wear the victor's crown. 



WE MISS THEE AT HOME. 



We miss thee at home, sadly miss the, 

Our circle is broken once more, 
The golden winged seraphs of heaven 

Have borne thee to life's fairer shore; 
From scenes of afflictions and sorrow, 

To joys which the saved only know, 
Where the pure crystal fountain of life 

With streams of salvation e'er flow. 

We miss thee at home at the twilight. 

When the shadows of evening come on, 
Thy place in our circle is vacant, 

And sadly we're sitting alone; 
But we think as the shades deepen 'round us, 

Of thy home in that land where no night 
Ever dims thy bright visions of glory, 

Or hides thy Redeemer from sight. 

We miss thee at home, yes, we miss thee 
When we bow at the altar for prayer; 

But a richer fruition above 

We know thy i)ure spirit doth share; 



BILLY DASH POEMS. 17{ 

In thy liome in the city of light, 

Near the bright dazzling throne of thy God, 
AVe know thou art robed in pure white. 

We submissively bow to His rod. 



We miss thee at home, but remember 

That no broken band will be there; 
The families of earth who love Jesus 

The glories of heaven shall share. 
Forever shall d^vell with the Saviour, 

Where sighing and death never come, 
We'll wait until summoned to meet thee, 

Till then we shall miss thee at home. 



THE EAINBOW OF PKOMISE. 

When life's storms are breaking so fearfully o'er us 
When fierce howling- tem})ests have madly swept by, 

Through tear-bedimmed eyes we behold in its beauty 
God's rainbow of promise so bright in the sky. 

How often when passing through deepest affliction 
Our pra3'er has been raised to the Father on high; 

His smile like the sunbeam makes tear drops to glisten 
The rainbow of promise appears in the sky. 

When those we have loved have falsely betrayed us, 
When friends have forsaken and left us to die, 

"I never, no, never, no, itever will leave thee" — 
This rainbow of promise still arches the sky. 

O, rainbow of promise, we hail thy appearing. 

Remembering life's storm clouds shall qiiickl}- j^ass by 
O, rainbow of promise, the saddest heart cheering, 
Blest token of mercy, so bright in the sky. 



THEY'RE WAITING TO WELCOME 
ME HOME. 

I'm thinking to-night of the loved and the h)st, 

Of hearts that were faithful and true; 
Alas ! that in life's l)riohtest bloom I was called 

To bid their sweet spirits adieu. 
How dark and how dreary my pathway below, 

A pilgrim and stranger I roam, 
My loved ones have gone to their mansion above, 

They'ra waitim; to w,=^lcome me home. 

I think as the soft falling shadows of eve, 

So gently hush nature to sleep. 
Of a land where no shadow shall flit o'er the soul. 

Where none ever weary or weep; 
I sigh for the rest which my loved ones have found 

Blest moment, O, when will it come? 
I know they are Avaiting and watching for me. 

They're Avaiting to welcome me home. 

I'm thinking to-night of the loved and the lost. 

So sadly I bade them farewell. 
The light has gone out from the old cottage home, 

No language my sorrow can tell; 



176 



BILLY DASH POEMS. 



And yet as I hrood o'er tlie past comes a thought, 

Like sunlight it pierces the gloom, 
My loved ones are safe in the city of light, 

They're waiting to welcome me home. 



THE CITY OF LIGHT IN THE 
BEAUTIFUL LAND. 

In the beaiitifiil laud there's a city we've told, 
Whose walls are of jasper, whose streets are of gold, 
Where soft gentle breezes are whispering hnv, 
Where life's crystal river forever doth flow. 

As a pilgrim and stranger I wander below, 

No portion on earth, but in heaven I know 

I may dwell with the saved,with the glorified stand, 

In tlie city of light in the beautiful land. 

Tis the place where the saved of all ages shall meet, 
Where brother and friend each other shall greet, 
Again re-united at Jesus' right hand. 
In the city of light in the beaiitiful land. 

Oh, we long to dwell there in the city of light. 
Clad in our garments of pure spotless white, 
To join in the songs of the bright angel band. 
In the city <>f light in the b'^autiful land. 



WATCHING, PKAYING, WAITING, 
TKIJ8TING. 

I watch against temptation, 
I watch Christ's work to share, 

Watch for a place to labor, 
I'm watching unto prayer. 



I pray I may be faithfnL 
Till past the pearly gate; 

I pray for grace to serve Thee, 
For patience, Lord, to wait. 



I'm waiting, blessed Jesus, 
Till thou shalt call the just 

To enter into glory; 

Till then, in Thee I'll trust. 



I'm trusting in His merit, 
Who gave His life for me, 

Who shed His blood on Calvary, 
Who died to set me free. 



BILLY DASH POEMS. 181 

I'm watching, praying, waitin];. 

Trusting in Jesus' love; 
Soon will the Saviour call ms 

Up to my home above. 



GONE FROM OUE HOME. 



Gone from our home, child of tenderest care, 
Faded the flower so lovely and rare; 
Our loved one now sleeps in death's cold embrace. 
Her sweet voice is hushed, and vacant her place. 



Sweet were the songs of our dearly loved child, 
Dear Nettie, so gentle, so loving, so mild, 
How sad are our hearts, — she sleeps in the tomb, 
Faded the flower in its earliest bloom. 



Biit we're told there's a land far away o'er the tide, 
A 'home of the soul' where our loved ones abide, 
Where sighing, nor sorrow, nor death ever come, 
Her spirit has entered that heavenly home. 

She dwells with the angels; by day and by night 
She joins in their songs with purest delight; 
She shares in their joys, partakes of their bliss; 
Yet v.-e long, O we long,for our Nettie's sweet kiss. 



BILLY DASH POEMS. 181 

A tln)ug-lit sweetly steals <~»'er hearts — it is tins : 
111 the sweet bye and bye, in the brio-lit realms of 

bliss, 
The families of earth who in Jesus confide 
Shall meet, ne'er to part,iii "our home o'er the tide." 



THE DYING BOY. 



I'm dying, dear mother, I'm dying. 

But weep not for me tlie sad tear. 
For angels, bright angels are coming, 

Their sweet flowing music I hear; 
They're coming to carry me over, 

My weary worn spirit to bear 
Away to my heavenly mansion; 

Oh, mother, I long to be there. 



I'm dying, dear mother, I'm dying; 

Sad only to bid you farewell. 
A few fleeting years, then together 

With angels in glory we'll dwell; 
Removed far above all earth's trials 

The glories of heaven we'll share. 
Safe, safe in our heavenly mansion, 

Oh, mother, I long to be there. 



I'm dying, mother, I'm dying, 

No danger, no evil I fear; 
The sufl'ering through which I am passing 

Makes heaven the brighter appear. 



BILLY DASH POEMS. 18" 

No sorrow sliall ever distress me, 

ril ne'er know a pain or a care 
When safe in my heavenly mansion; 

Oh, mother, I long to be there. 

I'm dying, mother, I'm dying, 

But Jesus my Saviour is near; 
The daj'-dawn of glory breaks o'er me, 

The towers of the city appear; 
The pearly gates glisten in sun-light, 

Naught earthly with them can compare — 
My heavenly mansion ! I see it ! 

Oh, mother, I long to be there. 



I'm dying, dear mother, I'm dying, 

The cold death-damp stands on my brow; 
A voice to my spirit is saying : 

"Fear not; trust in Jesus e'en now." 
The Lord through the valley will lead me, 

His promise my spirit doth cheer; 
To my mansion in glory He'll bring me, 

Farewell, mother dear, meet me there. 



THE HO UK AND PLACE OF 
PRAYEE. 

I love to kneel at the twilight hour, 

As nature sinks to rest, 
And offer up my evening prayer, 

And feel that I am l)lest; 
To hold communion with my God, 

And in His favor share; 
I love the hour, I love the place — 

The hour and place of prayer. 

How oft I've sought that blest retreat, 

Oppressed with grief and care, 
,And humbly bowed at Jesus' feet 

And found relief in prayer; 
There Jesus has on me bestowed 

The blessing of his grace. 
I love, I love the hour of prayer, 

I love the blessed place. 

All through our pilgrimage below 
Each one his cross must bear; 

But, O, what strength our souls receive 
While at the place of prayer. 



BII.LY DASH POEMK. 



187 



Oh, sacred spot, 'tis holy ground, 
We feel that God is there— 

I love the hour, I love the place— 
The hour and place of prayer. 



O HOME THIS SIDE OF THE 
RIVEE. 

No home on this side of the river, 

No place where my spirit can rest, 
'Mong strangers a wanderer ever, 

With sorrow my heart is oppressed. 
I've learned human friendship is fading; 

Those whom I t'lought faithful and true 
Have failed me in life's darkest hours, 

Plave bidden me coldly adieu. 

A pilgrim and stranger, I wander 

Through life's dreary desert below, 
I seek not the glory and honor 

Which perishing mortals bestow; 
I ask for no blessing, no portion, 

I ask not for riches or fame; 
Bu t pray for the grace by which saved o ne s 

The power of temptation o'ercame. 

No home on this side of the river, 
No place where my spirit can rest; 

L'^-^'s most cherished hopes have been blasted 
r.Iy spirit with grief is oppres'.ed. 



BILLY DASH POEMS. 189 

I sigh for the sweet rest of heaven^ 

To dwell on the evergreen shore; 
I long to cross over the river, 

Where sorrow shall reach me no more. 



C^'^D 



THE DYING CHRISTIAN. 



On his (iying couch, at close of day, 
A fainting, suffering christian lay; 

Years of obedience and faith 

Prepares him for the hour of death. 

The pulse more feeble, eye more dim, 
Hwiit speeds the hours allotted him ; 

He prays, with a believing heart. 
That God will dying grace impart. 

Around his couch his loved ones stand. 
To each he gave the parting hand, 

Then said, "Weep not these tears of grief 
For death will bring me sweet relief." 



I'm going home. Farewell, farewell; 

Soon with the angels I shall dwell. 
Tho Boatman ! List ! He calls for me; 

Soon I shall cross the mystic sea. 



BILLY DASH POEMS. 191 

FMinter the pulse; shorter the breath; 

His eye lights up — can this be death? 
Such peace, such bliss, grace from on high; 

If this be dying, let me die. 



The angels! See ! they come, they come; 

They wait to bear my spirit home. 
Music ! I hear glad songs of joy. 

Unmixed with aught of earth's alloy. 



The Heavenly City— world of light ! 

What glory breaks upon my sight ! 
My Saviour's lovely form I see; 

Redeemer, thou hast died for me. 



With heavenward gaze, with outstretched hands, 

Surrounded by the angel bands; 
While loving friends around him weep, 

In Christ, he sweetly falls asleep. 



THE END. 



